Potions that day was even more interesting than usual. They were working on a Sleeping Draught, and Harry had always like the combination of crushed lavender and sweetroot , it made him feel peaceful and the bit of sheep's wool added to the mixture, which soaked up any large particles, reminded him of a stuffed lamb he'd had when he was a baby. It had been in his bassinet as a fifteen month old, when he'd been dropped off at the Durselys, and he had kept it until he was five and it had fallen prey to one of Dudley's tantrums and been ripped to shreds. That had been one of the few times Harry had actually done something to Dudley with magic, he had made the fat little troublemaker get a terrible itchy rash all over his bottom. The best part was that he had done it at a distance, and so couldn't be blamed for anything. Petunia had thought Dudley contracted an infection from a public toilet. Of course, it didn't replace the shredded toy, but it had made Harry feel a little better.

He was working today with Hermione, and they were moving along nicely with their recipe. It was just at the stage when it needed to bubble gently and be given three clockwise stirs and four counterclockwise. Harry kept an eye upon the cauldron, and also on one Draco Malfoy, who was known to enjoy sabotaging other people's potions projects. But today, Snape seemed to be keeping an extra sharp eye on this class, and so Malfoy wasn't able to do anything to Harry's solution. Not to mention the fact that Malfoy was on the other side of the room.

"Almost done," he told Hermione excitedly. The potion was emitting a gentle soothing aroma and was the color of twilight, a soft rosy purple.

Thus far, Snape had not come to inspect their cauldron, instead busying himself with scowling at a few other students. Since the troll incident on Halloween, Harry had noticed that Snape was much more lenient on him in class. He sometimes used Harry's potion as a sample to other years, and also gave points, though what points Harry had accrued often ended up being eclipsed by Longbottom's abysmal potions skills and the deduction of points for exploding or totally botched potions. Harry had also noticed that Severus was careful to separate Harry and whoever partnered him, usually it was Ron or Hermione, and occasionally Dean, from Malfoy and the more boisterous Slytherins, which made it ten times as hard for Malfoy to pull pranks on him in class.

Harry was very grateful for that, because nothing irritated him more than a potion ruined on purpose. In that, he was very like Lily, if he only had known. He gave the mixture one final stir then asked Hermione to douse the fire under the cauldron, which she did with a simple "Extingue!"

"Looks perfect to me," she whispered, smiling.

Harry smiled too. "I wouldn't go that far. Perfect's for Masters. But it's good for us."

They strained and decanted the potion into their vials, then labeled them. Just then Severus arrived at their workstation and examined the rest of their potion before bottling a sample. "The color is a bit too bright, but otherwise this is an exceptional draft. Ten points to Gryffindor." He said quietly, with a nod of approval.

Harry smiled then. "Thank you, sir."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "For what? You earned the grade yourself, Potter." He then waved his wand at the cauldron and vanished the excess potion. "Everyone, solutions on my desk in five minutes. Those of you who are late will suffer a five point deduction."

He then swept up to his desk, where he could watch the students as they came and handed in their potions.

Harry walked alongside Ron and asked, "Well? How did you do?"

Ron shrugged. "Not too bad. He didn't tear strips off my arse this time at least." He showed Harry his potion, which was a light lavender color, not the correct shade but at least it was in the vicinity of the right shade.

They reached the desk and Ron placed his potion on it and so did Harry. Hermione was about to put hers down when Malfoy came up and shoved her arm.

She lost her grip on the vial and it smashed onto the floor.

"No! Oh no!" she wailed, horrified.

Malfoy smirked. "Oops! How clumsy, Granger."

Hermione looked as if she were going to burst into tears.

"You did that on purpose, Malfoy!" Ron growled.

"Prove it, Weasel face. I can't help it if she's got butterfingers." Malfoy laughed.

"But you can help tripping over your own robes, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, his tone icy with displeasure. "Five points from Slytherin for behaving like a gawky giraffe."

Draco's eyes widened. "But . . .sir . . .you can't just take points for that . . .!"

Severus' eyes narrowed. "Mr. Malfoy, are you questioning me on my discipline policy?"

"Sir, why would you want to take points from your own House—"

"Believe me, I wish nothing less, however you make it impossible for me not to deduct points, Malfoy, given your current attitude." Snape glowered, gritting his teeth. Lately, Lucius' son was giving him a real migraine. Draco was starting to remind him unpleasantly of James Potter and the Marauders, with his arrogance and belief that because he was a Slytherin pureblood, Snape would allow him to get away with anything.

Draco opened his mouth again.

"I warn you, complain again, Malfoy and you shall be scrubbing cauldrons for me after midnight in detention."

Draco's teeth clicked together and he turned and walked out the door.

Hermione looked up from where she was crouched on the floor, trying to mop up the spilled potion. "Sir, what about my potion?"

"What about it, Miss Granger?" Snape asked calmly. "I have it upon my desk there."

"You what? Oh!" Hermione sniffled, understanding dawning in her brown eyes. How clever the Potions Master was! She thought. And how perfectly sneaky!

Snape came around the desk and pressed something into her hand. "Granger, get to your next class. I shall mop this up." He waved his wand and muttered a Cleaning Charm as he spoke.

"Yes, Professor Snape," Hermione said, then hurried out the door. In the corridor she paused and opened her hand. Within it was a green and silver handkerchief. She quickly blotted her eyes with it.

Ron emerged from the classroom a moment later. "I'll be damned. Snape actually did something . . . good for a Gryffindor. Did somebody slip him a Memory Altering Draught?"

Harry chuckled. "No. He just doesn't care for people messing with his decent potions students. Even if they aren't in Slytherin. That just really ticks him off."

"Since when?" asked Ron suspiciously. "He always used to favor his own House before."

"Things change, Ron," was all Harry answered. "Come on, we'll be late for Charms."

Later on that day, over lunch, Hermione brought up the fact that the library, which had been utterly trashed by the troll and its battle with Professor Snape and Harry, was still closed until further notice. "It's driving me crazy," she moaned. "Now I have nowhere I can go to study, except my room. And half the time there's always someone there and they aren't studying, they're gossiping about the latest fashion in Witch Weekly or trying out hairstyles and makeup."

"Maybe you should take a break from studying then," Ron offered. "I mean, don't most girls like discussing stuff like that?"

Hermione frowned. "Yes . . .if they have extra money to spend on new robes or makeup, and if they happen to look good no matter what they wear and their hair isn't a frizzy mop. I don't have time to bother with any of that, Ron. All I want is to be at the top of my class."

"You do expect a lot of yourself," the redhead said. "Why don't you study in the common room then?"

"Too noisy," Harry answered, for he had been having the same problem. The library had been his haven, a chance to slip offand read in peace for a few hours. Not that he didn't enjoy his Housemates, but sometimes he felt stifled and just needed a place to be alone. Now, with the library damaged, his sanctuary was gone.

There's always the professor's quarters, he reminded himself. Snape had given him an open invitation to visit his quarters and Harry had been down there quite a few times. He knew that Severus wouldn't mind if he went there to study, so long as he kept quiet. Still, he missed the library. He also felt sort of guilty, since he was the reason the troll had entered it in the first place.

"Uh . . .maybe you could go study by the lake?" Ron offered. Since he wasn't much for reading, the library's loss wasn't such a blow to him.

"And catch pneumonia while I'm at it?" Hermione snorted. "Brilliant, Ron! Now why didn't I think of that?"

"I'm only trying to help."

Hermione huffed. "I wonder why it's taking so long to restore the library? If you can repair things with magic . . .?"

Harry had been wondering that too. And he knew just who to ask about that question.

Severus looked up from the batch of sixth year homework he'd been grading when the knock came at his office door. His eyes lit upon the magical scroll hanging above the doorway, which identified each visitor by reading their magical aura, something unique to every wizard and witch, like fingerprints. The scroll wrote in a graceful script—Harry Potter.

"Enter, Mr. Potter," the Potions Master called.

The door opened and Harry stepped inside. He was slightly out of breath from having hurried down the stairs. "Professor Snape, I . . .er . . .need to ask you a question."

"Indeed? And what would that be?"

Harry was about to inquire about the library, but his curiosity about another matter got the better of him. "Sir, how did you know it was me at the door?"

Severus' eyes gleamed. He knew many students wondered at his uncanny ability to discern visitors, they thought he read minds. "I have my ways, Potter. Was that the only reason you chose to disturb me?"

"Oh no, sir!" Harry said brightly, taking a seat upon the green leather chair in the corner. "I mean . . . sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you . . .but I have to know . . .when will the library be open again? It's taking forever to fix it up and I was just wondering 'cause you know I like studying there and I . . .miss it."

Severus set down his viridian quill and looked at the small boy before him. Harry's green eyes were downcast and he looked like a boy who has suddenly found out that his favorite hideaway in the park was about to be demolished by some mega real estate company. He found he could totally sympathize with how Harry felt. The library held too many memories for him to ever be resigned to its loss.

"It may be another few months before the library is fit to have students enter it again. Madam Pince had hysterics and had to be dosed with a Draught of Peace by me when she first saw the chaos her library had been reduced to. Not that I blame the woman. The loss of the books alone is irreparable. She applied for a Ministry money grant to restore the library, but getting money out of that bureaucracy is like pulling teeth from a crocodile. They are notoriously slow in gathering and distributing funds, even for such a cause and to such a venerable institution. It's terribly frustrating. She is slowly replacing those that could not be repaired, Dumbledore offered to foot the bill, but she insists as the Head Librarian she must personally buy those texts that were destroyed. Unfortunately, her salary is not quite up to it and she refuses anyone's attempt to assist her financially."

"Oh. That's too bad, sir. Because I could help . . .I have Galleons to spare, you know . . ."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I am sure your parents left you well off, considering your father was the sole heir to the Potter estates and fortune. However, that money was supposed to be used to pay for your education and upkeep."

"Yes, sir. I suppose so. But if I donate some money to the library, that would be paying for my education."

"Humph! You are nearly too smart for your own good, Harry," Severus said. "Even so, I doubt Pince would accept it. She's very proud, you know."

"Would she maybe accept help on restoring the library?" Harry asked then. "I mean, fixing all the things the damn troll broke, like the wall and the desks and the bookshelves?"

"Language, Potter," scolded the professor. "I have no doubt she needs the help, whether she would accept it is another story."

"Could I ask her, sir?"

"Do you want to get your head ripped off, boy? She is crankier than a badger roused from a midwinter's nap."

Harry swallowed hard. That did not sound good. Then again, why would the librarian be anything other than vastly annoyed at the destruction of her beloved library and the precious books in it? Harry figured she had probably spent nights crying into her pillow once the dead troll had been removed. He knew he would have. "I . . .I'd really like to help restore the library, professor. Especially because . . .it's kind of my fault it got wrecked in the first place."

"Your fault?"

"If I hadn't been hiding in there, the troll wouldn't have come in there."

"Harry, that's ridiculous. There was no predicting what the troll would do once inside the castle. It might have entered the library anyhow, whether or not you were inside." Severus pointed out. He sighed, knowing that the boy's guilt complex would nag him until something was done. "All right, Potter. We shall go to Madam Pince and see if she will allow us to assist her."

"Us?" Harry's eyes widened. "You mean, you're going to help too?"

"Obviously. Since part of the damage done in there was due to my battling the troll. And two wands are better than one."

"When can we go and see her?"

Severus checked his watch. It was almost eight. "Now. I still have a few hours before curfew." He rose from his desk, capped his inkwell and put his quill away. "Come, Potter. She'll probably have finished her glass of sherry by now, she almost always has one before retiring. Her quarters are next to the library, across the hall." He informed his eager student, anticipating Harry's next question.

Harry had to practically run to keep up with the tall wizard's strides, but he didn't complain.

Snape glanced at him and then slowed, allowing him to catch up before saying, "Did they not feed you at home, Potter? You're rather small for your age." Rather like I was, as a matter of fact. But that should not be. Petunia lives in an affluent neighborhood and her husband is well off, at least according to Dumbledore and Minerva. They should have no trouble feeding four.

Harry blushed. He didn't know how to answer that question. If he told the truth, would Snape believe him? Would anyone? "I don't really eat much," he said, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

Severus frowned at him. "Why? Most boys your age devour food in two seconds. Do you have problems with your stomach? Does it hurt after you eat? Do you feel ill?" Perhaps the child had developed an ulcer? It was rare, but such had been known to happen.

"No. I just. . .can't eat a lot at one time." Harry explained.

"Do you have allergies to certain foods? Like dairy? Or meat? Nuts?" Snape probed, sensing the boy was hiding something.

Harry shook his head. "No, sir." He bit his lip.

"Perhaps you ought to see Madame Pomfrey for a physical," Severus mused. "When was the last time you had one?"

"I . . .I don't remember." Harry stammered. Why was Snape so concerned about his eating habits? No one else had ever thought it was a big deal when he ate or even if he ate.

"I'll see when I can make an appointment for you then."

Harry blanched. "Oh, but sir, I'm fine! Really I am. I'm not sick."

Severus frowned at the boy. "Perhaps not, but better safe than sorry. I shall speak to her tomorrow."

"Professor, I really feel fine. I don't need to see the nurse . . ." Harry protested.

"Come now, Harry. Madame Pomfrey's exam will take all of five minutes and won't hurt. I would be remiss in my duties as your unofficial guardian if I didn't make sure you were healthy." He gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze. "If she gives you any vaccinations, I'll hold your hand, all right?" he teased.

Harry blushed. "I'm not a baby! I'm not afraid of shots . . .well . . .not really."

"Poppy knows how to give injections so they barely sting." Snape told him simply.

Their conversation trailed off because they had reached the library. Severus turned and knocked on the door to Pince's quarters.

The door opened, and the tall Head Librarian came out. Her dark hair was piled high in a severe bun, which made her narrow face look even more forbidding. She was in a blue and white striped night robe, a pair of pince nez glasses on a chain about her neck. She was about fifty, with bright blue eyes that squinted disapprovingly at her unexpected guests, making her look rather like a beady-eyed vulture. In her dress and manner she resembled the stereotypical boarding school matron, strict and unsmiling, fond of rules and regarding children as an unwanted disturbance. "Professor Snape? To what do I owe this visit?" she asked, somewhat coldly. "I was just about to retire."

Severus seemed unaffected by her brusque manner. "My apologies, Irma. I will be brief. Mr. Potter here—"

Pince fastened her beady-eyed gaze upon Harry and glared at him. "Potter? Why, you're the brat who lured that bloody troll into my library! And now you have the cheek to come here and . . .and . . .well, what are you here for, boy?"

Harry looked up at the librarian and for a moment felt almost afraid of the witch, who reminded him a bit of Aunt Petunia in a temper. But then he glanced at Severus, who gave him a quick nod, and he knew no harm would ever come to him so long as the Potions Master was there. "Um . . .I'm sorry, Madam Pince, that the troll wrecked the library. I . . .really liked it there. I like to read and I hate that all the books got destroyed. It's awful."

"Yes, it is! Some of those books were centuries old! Some were the original volumes and can never be replaced! All my life I worked to keep the library shipshape and the books in mint condition and now . . .thanks to you, Potter, it's all ruined! Ruined!" her wand waved wildly, and sparks shot from it.

Harry shrank back from her, for her hands had crooked into claws and she was looking at him as if she wanted to turn him inside out.

Severus scowled. "Control yourself, for heaven's sake! Irma, it's unfair of you to blame the boy for a twist of fate. He was not at fault for the troll encountering him in the library. If you wish to blame someone, then blame whoever let the blasted troll into the castle. Or do you blame me as well, because I was there to fight it?"

Pince huffed. "Severus, you might have tried to . . .get it OUT of the library before you killed it. I shall never get the stench out of the carpet. And my poor books . . .all the classics . . .all the rare volumes . . . the poetry . . .the histories . . .all of them were shredded." She put a hand to her heart. "I feel as if I have lost my children . . .You cannot possibly understand . . ."

She seemed on the verge of tears.

Harry felt terrible. "But I do understand, Madam Pince. Books are my best friends too. I've always loved to read and I'm sorry I couldn't get out of the library but the troll had trapped me in the back corner, so . . . .I'd like to help restore the library. I could help you fix the bookshelves or the desks or catalogue the books."

"I also wish to help, Irma. You ought to know by now what a bibliophile I am," Severus interjected. "You had a fine collection of volumes, and if you'd allow me, I would like to help replace a few of them. The Prince family had an extensive collection of magical texts, I could donate some of them to you, if you'd like."

Pince stared at them as if they had lost their marbles. "Do you . . .really mean that?"

Severus nodded. "The library is special to both of us and we miss being able to visit and read in peace and quiet in the evenings. Plus, the school cannot function properly without a library."

The witch seemed shocked. "Yes . . .I know that. I have tried as best I could to replace what I can—"

"Irma, you cannot expect to do this on your own. You are only one witch and the library was the work of several centuries of witches and wizards. Let us assist you, if for nothing else, than to make restitution for what the troll damaged. What do you say?"

"I . . .suppose it would be all right. So long as you promise, Potter, to make sure your hands are clean and that you never touch a book without washing your hands. I simply cannot stand grubby children touching my books!" she declared fussily.

"Okay, ma'am." Harry said, then he flipped his hands up and said, "See? My hands are clean."

The librarian inspected them and gave a grudging nod. "Very well. Tomorrow evening you may return here and we shall see what can be salvaged. But any funny business, Potter, and I shall toss you out on your ear and take fifty points. Am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am." Harry said respectfully.

"I shall make sure he behaves, Irma," Snape reassured her.

"I will hold you to that, Professor," she sniffed. "Good night. I shall see you tomorrow evening, around six." She nodded to them each in turn, then withdrew into her quarters, shutting the door behind her.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief. "Phew! For a minute there, I thought she was gonna hex me."

"So did I. Which was why I was prepared to disarm her. But I am pleased I didn't have to."

"Me too. Sev?" Harry whispered boldly. He only dare use Snape's nickname when they were alone. "Do you think I could . . .maybe make an anonymous donation to the library? She'd have to take that, wouldn't she?"

"I would say so. If you are determined to do this—" Harry nodded firmly. "—then I shall take you to Gringotts for a withdrawal this weekend. You may slip it on her desk when she's not looking." He smirked. "For now, I would suggest you return to your common room and get started on your homework."

"Aww, Sev!"

"Quit your grousing, Potter. It's Monday, I know you have at least three assignments due, now off with you!" He turned the boy about and gave him a gentle swat.

"Okay, okay. I'm going." Harry muttered, concealing a smile. Then he stopped and looked back at his professor. "Thanks, sir. I feel a lot better now."

"Stop procrastinating, Mr. Potter."

"I'm not. It's just . . could I study in your quarters, sir? It's nice and quiet in there."

Severus hid a groan. He had been looking forward to a nap and maybe curling up in front of his fire with a potions journal. But Harry had his mother's eyes and he never could resist them. "All right, brat. So long as you promise to do nothing other than study and finish homework. I won't be entertaining hyper brats at eight o'clock at night. And mind you return to your dormitory before curfew."

"Agreed, sir." Harry said. "Thanks! Let me get my books, I'll be right back!" He started to run for the staircase at the end of the hall.

"Potter!" Severus snapped.

Harry skidded to a halt. "Yes, sir?"

"No running in the halls. Did your aunt teach you no manners?"

Harry flushed. "Uh . . .not really. Sorry." He started to walk swiftly towards the stairs. But once he was safely out of Snape's sight, he ran to the Gryffindor portrait hole.

"Noble heart!" he gasped.

"In a hurry, dearie?" asked the Fat Lady.

"Just a bit." Harry said, then he ducked inside.

Most of his Housemates were busy talking about the upcoming Quidditch match or trying to study or playing Wizard Chess. Ron was involved in a cutthroat game against his brother Percy, concentrating hard. Harry was relieved, since he knew Ron would be too busy to ask where he was going at this time of night.

He glanced about for Hermione, finally finding her scrunched in a chair in the far corner of the common room, wearing a set of extra thick earmuffs on her head. He chuckled. "Clever, Hermione! I wish I'd thought of that." His friend had her nose buried in The Standard Book of Spells Level One.

Harry quickly went upstairs and fetched his school bag and then slipped out the portrait hole without anyone noticing. He had learned long ago how to move swiftly and silently and his small size enabled him to slip about the edges of things without too much effort.

Once outside the tower, Harry scurried down to the dungeons, hoping that Severus might have made some tea and maybe had crumpets with strawberry jam as well. Last time he had come to Snape's quarters to study, the professor had some treat on hand.

He was almost to the professor's quarters, his mouth watering slightly at the hope of crumpets or biscuits sprinkled with sugar, when suddenly three figures stepped out of the doorway of the boys lavatory.

"What are you doing down here, Potter?" Malfoy demanded, sneering. "Get lost on your way back to your tower?"

His ever present pals, Crabbe and Goyle, sniggered at this.

"No." Harry said, lifting his chin and looking Malfoy in the eye. He knew better than to show fear in front of bullies, despite his pounding heart. "I've come to see Professor Snape. I need to ask him an important question."

"Ooo, an important question," drawled Malfoy. "Like what? Whether you're going to fail for the year? I can answer that one. You're a retarded Gryffindor—of course you're going to fail!"

"Shut up, Malfoy! You don't know anything."

Malfoy's fists clenched. "Don't know anything, Potter? Right! At least I know enough to not go wandering about uninvited. Go back to your tower, Potty!"

"Not until I see the professor." Harry said, clutching his wand. He knew Malfoy was spoiling for a fight. "Now move out of my way."

Draco laughed mockingly. "Make me, Potter. Or are you too chicken?"

Harry stiffened. Those were fighting words any way you looked at it. But he managed to hold onto his temper, because he wanted no more trouble between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Since Severus had become his guardian, he had come to see that not all Slytherins were painted with the same brush—in short not all were of the ambitious stab-you-in-the-back variety, or the ones who followed the Dark Path and would soon as hex a Gryffindor as look at one. The professor was brave and he cared about Harry, or at least Harry thought he did, since Snape had saved him that Halloween night and had even praised him in class and allowed him liberties no other Gryffindor, make that no other student, ever had.

Not even Malfoy.

Harry suspected the blond boy was jealous as well as a bully. He knew all about bullies, having lived for the past ten years with one, his cousin Dudley. Harry also knew the only way to get rid of a bully was to walk away or give him a taste of his own medicine. He wouldn't mind trying to give Malfoy a good thrashing, only he wasn't exactly sure if he could take the other boy. Also, dueling was forbidden among students.

"I'm not a chicken, Malfoy," he stated calmly, though his wand was pointed at the other. "Now, for the last time, move!"

"Or what? You'll hex me?" the other sneered, his blue-gray eyes full of mocking superiority. "I'll be t you don't know the first thing about dueling, Potter. I heard you didn't even know magic was real until Hagrid told you!"

His companions, the overlarge Crabbe and Goyle snickered.

"I know that if Professor Snape catches us dueling, he'll make us wish we'd never heard of wands," Harry said, knowing instinctively that was correct.

Malfoy made a so-what gesture. "Maybe he'll make you wish that, you pathetic four-eyed coward. You're a Gryffindor, which is synonymous with dumber than dirt."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

Draco glared at him. "At least I'm smart enough to stay where I belong. Maybe the reason you're so stupid, Potter, is because of that scar you got when you were a baby. It made you famous but it also knocked all the sense out of your head. Poor dumb Potter! I'll bet your mummy's ashamed of such a stupid son. Oh, I forgot. She went and got herself killed, trying to duel the greatest dark wizard ever. Stupidity must run in your family."

Harry saw red. "You take that back, Malfoy! My mum was not stupid!"

"Sure she was. All Gryffindors are stupid, all they know how to do is play Quidditch and look at themselves in the mirror and suck up to teachers. Like you do. Kiss arse!"

"I am not! And my mother was brilliant!" Harry flared. "Professor Snape and everyone else says so!"

"Guess what, Potty? They lied, because they feel sorry for poor pathetic you who's lost his mum!" Draco pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

"At least mine died for a good cause. Yours probably would have hid under the bed or begged You-Know-Who on her hands and knees to spare her life!" Harry shot back. If Draco was going to insult Lily, then his mother was fair game.

"You calling my mother a coward, Potter?" growled Malfoy.

"Just telling the truth, is all," Harry replied.

"Eat this, Potty!" spat the irate Slytherin. He fired off a Stinging Hex.

Harry managed to dodge it by sheer luck. Then he recalled a spell he had read about in the library just before Halloween. He was sure he could cast it. "Repello Malfoy!"

Draco was knocked violently backwards as if by a sudden gust of wind. He fetched up against the wall next to Snape's quarters with a light thump, knocking the breath from his body a bit.

Harry glared at him. "Don't ever insult my mum again, Malfoy!"

"Wow! He got you good, Draco!" remarked Goyle somewhat stupidly.

Malfoy forced himself to his feet, red-faced with temper and embarrassment. He couldn't allow himself to be beaten by a Gryffindor, especially one who had been raised Muggle. He would never live it down. Humiliated and furious, he rummaged about in his head for a curse or hex to teach the Potter brat his place. "Don't insult mine, dung for brains!" He pointed his wand and snapped out the incantation to a Bone Breaking Curse that Lucius had taught him that summer.

Harry felt a terrible sharp pain as the bone in his right arm, his wand arm, shattered. He screamed and went to his knees, his vision red and blurry from the agonizing pain.

"Serves you right! Now maybe you'll learn your lesson." Malfoy laughed, then cast another jinx upon his opponent, which caused his nose to start spontaneously bleeding and swell to an enormous size. "This is what happens to stupid Gryffindors who pick fights with Slytherins and go where they're not supposed to."

Harry started to cough and gasp, for he couldn't breathe right with all the blood gushing from his nose. He tried frantically to stem the flood with a sleeve but blood kept spurting out. "Make it stop!" he whimpered, terrified he would bleed to death.

"Beg me, Potter. Say pretty please, like your dear departed mum."

"Go . . .to . . .hell . . .Malfoy," Harry hissed. He would rather die than humble himself before Malfoy that way.

An instant later he was regretting that impulse as he felt lightheaded and about to pass out.

Severus had just settled down with a cup of his favorite Black Dragon tea and some shortbread biscuits, wondering where Potter had gotten to, when he heard the sound of voices raised in anger and thumps. He rose immediately, knowing how hotheaded his Slytherins were, he suspected there was either a fight going on or they were playing indoor Quidditch in the hallway again. Searing under his breath and vowing to teach the little brats to obey school rules if it killed him, Snape strode to the door of his quarters, yanked open the door and stepped into the corridor.

"What, may I ask, is going on out here?" he hissed in his deadliest tone.

He surveyed the situation in two seconds. Draco was standing over Harry, wearing a sneer of satisfaction and Harry . . .Harry was covered in blood. "Say it!" Draco was ordering.

Severus was suddenly transported back some seventeen years ago, to a time when the Marauders had cornered him in the boys' bathroom and almost drowned him by shoving his head in the toilet to "clean him up". He could still recall the horrible fear that he was going to die and hear Black and Pettigrew laughing and jeering. "Wash your hair, Snivellus! It sure does need it, eh, Prongs?"

"Potter! Malfoy!" Snape's voice cracked like a whip. "Dueling in the corridor? Detention and thirty points from Gryffindor . . .and Slytherin!" Snape growled, gritting his teeth through the last words. He hated taking points from his own House, but he could not abide bullies either and Malfoy had been caught redhanded with his wand pointed at Potter.

"Professor Snape!" Malfoy went pale as old cheese. "Sir, I-I can explain . . .! Potter started it! I-I was only defending myself!"

"Silence!" hissed Snape, and the look in his eyes was terrible to see. Malfoy cringed away. "Wand, Mr. Malfoy." He pocketed Draco's wand. "Remain where you are, all of you!" Then he knelt to examine Harry. "Potter, let me see." He gently tilted Harry's head up, pressing a handkerchief to the boy's nose and chanting a simple Blood Halt Charm.

"Didn't start it, sir," Harry mumbled. "Malfoy attacked me . . .called my mum a stupid witch . . ."

Severus felt his temper slip another notch. Malfoy had dared to insult Lily! He reached out to help Harry to his feet, his hand closing accidentally upon the broken arm.

"Ahhh!" Harry screamed, nearly passing out.

Severus immediately released his arm. "Potter, what happened to your arm?"

"Malfoy got him good with a Bone Break Hex," Crabbe said helpfully.

Snape lifted Harry in his arms and gave Draco's two cronies a death glare. "And I suppose you two geniuses just stood there and let them go at it? Maybe placed a few bets?" his tone was corrosive.

"Uh . . .well, you see . . .sir . . ." Crabbe whined, hanging his head.

"What I see, Crabbe and Goyle, is two dunderheads who don't even have enough brains to break up a duel and save a fellow Slytherin's hide. Next time don't stand there like a lump, do something to stop it! Get out of my sight, before you share Malfoy's punishment!"

Crabbe and Goyle hotfooted it to the Slytherin portrait hole. "Sorry, sir! Won't happen again!" babbled Goyle.

Severus shot them a withering glare, utterly disgusted with them and with Malfoy. He was also quite concerned over the small boy in his arms. Harry had buried his face in Snape's robes and was breathing in quick gasps, trying not to cry, for he could feel the bones grating in his broken arm. "Shh, Potter. I'm going to conjure a stretcher and take you to Madam Pomfrey. She'll fix your arm." He murmured. Then he wandlessly summoned a stretcher and placed Harry on it.

Harry whimpered, longing to cling to his professor, but unable to do so. As the stretcher floated behind Snape, he heard the professor ordering Draco to accompany him. Harry winced and allowed himself to drift into a twilight haze, trying to ignore the throbbing in his arm and head.

Severus turned Harry over to Pomfrey, telling the mediwitch that Potter had met with an unfortunate accident.

"Not again, Severus!" Poppy cried. "This is the third time this term! First the troll, then the Quidditch match, and now this!"

Snape nodded curtly, then bent and whispered in Harry's ear, "I'll be back in a bit. Listen to Pomfrey and do as she tells you."

Then he whirled about and caught the Malfoy scion by the collar and dragged him into the hallway for a private chat.

"Professor Snape, it wasn't my fault," Malfoy whined, immediately trying to skew the facts in his favor. He couldn't believe his Head had actually taken thirty points away! And given him detention too! It was simply unheard of. Some of the older Slytherins had assured him that Snape never took points, no matter what his House did in public. But it looked like they had been mistaken . . .or playing him for a gullible fool. Draco gulped. He had never seen Snape so furious, not even the time Longbottom blew up his cauldron and splattered half the class with his mucked up potion. The wizard's black eyes glittered with wrath and his fingers were hard and unforgiving as they closed upon Malfoy's shoulders. Malfoy felt suddenly grateful that Hogwarts no longer allowed corporal punishment, otherwise he was certain he would have been bent over and getting seven of the best from his potions professor right then and there. "Potter started it—"

"Do not lie to me, Malfoy!" Snape cut him off, his eyes flashing black fire. "I know perfectly well who hexed whom and when. It was quite obvious to anyone with eyes in their head and brains between their ears." He shook the boy slightly. "Dueling is forbidden, no matter what the provocation! It is the one offense that will result in expulsion if repeated. Do you wish to be expelled, Malfoy?"

Malfoy shivered. "You . . .you wouldn't . . .my father would—"

"Be forced to abide by the rules of this institution, as I do. Your father may be on the Board of Governors and highly placed in the Ministry, but that does not mean you shall get special privileges, Malfoy, Slytherin or not! You are not above the rules, anymore than Potter is."

"Potter always gets special treatment. He gets to play Quidditch early—" whined Malfoy.

"That never would have happened if he were in Slytherin. Do not worry about Potter, Malfoy. You're only concern should be yourself and how you can earn back the House points you lost. I shall not tolerate another incident like this one. You may have been allowed to lord it over others at home, but such is no longer the case. Lose the attitude, Mr. Malfoy. Bullying others will get you a one way ticket back home on the Hogwarts Express, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Your wand is mine till the weekend, since you clearly cannot be trusted to use it responsibly."

Draco gaped. "But professor—I need it to cast spells!"

"You shall get it back—for class only. You will also serve detention along with Potter for the next three days. It will begin tomorrow night, with a dozen cauldrons that need your exclusive attention. The next night you shall accompany me to the library and work on cleaning the bookshelves and the desks or whatever else Madam Pince needs doing. Now, get back to your common room and go to sleep. I shall be back in a few minutes and Merlin help you, boy, if I find you anywhere but in bed . . ." he trailed off ominously.

Draco scurried off towards the dungeons, his ears smarting from the verbal lashing Snape had given him. He had been warned about Snape's temper, but had never thought he would be on the receiving end of it, especially with his connections.

When Severus entered the infirmary, he found Harry sitting up in one of the infirmary beds, his arm in a sling, wearing the standard blue and white striped hospital pajamas. The boy was still pale, but he looked worlds better than he had when Snape had first seen him lying upon the dungeon floor, all over blood.

Poppy suddenly appeared at his elbow. "Severus, I've mended his arm, but he needs to keep it immobile over night, give the spell a chance to set, and I've given him a Blood Replenisher and a Pain Reliever."

Snape nodded. "What about a Sleeping Draft?"

"Not yet. That was the next thing. Would you be so kind as to inform Minerva where her little lion is? I am sure she is wondering where Mr. Potter is by now. It's almost curfew."

"I shall. Is Potter well enough to leave the Hospital Wing?"

The mediwitch nodded. "Yes." She waved her wand and a familiar twilight colored potion popped up in her hand. "Mr. Potter, take this Sleeping Draft before you retire. It will ensure you get the rest you need. Sleep is the physician of pain."

"Yes, ma'am." Harry took the vial. He would have smiled at the quote, which was an old Roman saying, but he was far too nervous. Looking at Snape's forbidding expression, he knew he was going to be roasted over a slow fire by his guardian.

"Come, boy. I shall escort you back to Gryffindor Tower and speak to Professor McGonagall once I am there," Snape ordered.

Harry slid off the bed. He longed to run over to Snape and lean against him, but he sensed the wizard was not in the mood to be hugged by wayward students. "Yessir." He followed Snape out of the infirmary.

Severus strode along rapidly, his boots tapping out a firm rhythm, breathing deeply. He said nothing for several moments. All at once he halted, turning to face his disobedient ward. Disappointment and anger warred across his face.

Harry dropped his gaze to his shoes.

"Dueling, Potter?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry sir."

"No excuses. You know that dueling is expressly forbidden. You've read the Hogwarts rules and regulations, I gave you a copy myself. What possessed you to break them?"

"I . . .Malfoy insulted my mum and I . . .lost my temper, sir. I didn't want to fight him, but he . . ."Harry shook his head, Snape's disappointment cut him sharper than a whip. "I'm sorry. Will I . . .be expelled?" He forced himself to ask that question, then waited, dread curling in his stomach, for his teacher's answer.

Snape let him squirm for a few minutes, continuing to walk towards the stairs leading to Gryffindor Tower. "No. Not this time. I will not report this to the Headmaster. I have taken points and you and Mr. Malfoy shall serve detention with me for the week, both in my lab and in the library. You shall also surrender your wand to me, I will be keeping it until the weekend, since you obviously cannot be trusted to use it properly. You shall get it back only for class." He placed his hands on his hips and sent Harry a stern look. "I trust you know how disappointed your actions have made me?"

"I'm sorry, Sev." Harry whispered. He handed his wand over with a pang of regret. He had been so foolish, letting Malfoy goad him into a duel. "I'll try and control myself from now on. It won't happen again."

"It had better not. Or else you will be ending your school days before they have barely begun." Severus sighed. "How are you feeling otherwise?"

"All right." Harry said diffidently, wondering if this had put an end to his friendship with the potions professor. "I should have walked away, I know that, but I . . .just couldn't. Not after what he said about Mum."

Snape's hand closed over his shoulder gently. "When I was your age, I probably wouldn't have either," he conceded. "Do try harder, Potter. That impulsiveness is inherited from your father and it is not a good thing to indulge in. Tell me, who did throw the first hex, you or Malfoy?"

"Malfoy did. He wanted to fight, I tried to defend myself, but . . .I don't know enough magic."

"I see. That is not your fault. You cannot be expected to learn magic overnight, not raised as a Muggle. Malfoy's been around magic and been taught hexes since he could hold a wand."

"I know. He's a bully, like my cousin Dudley."

"Your cousin? What do you mean?"

"Nothing." Harry said quickly. He hadn't meant to let that slip.

"Your cousin bullied you? How?"

Harry avoided the other's probing gaze. But it was too late to take the words back and he knew better than to try and lie. Not to this man. "He . . .used to push me and shove me a lot. Call me freak and loser. You know. The usual things."

The boy's calm acceptance riled the Potions Master. For Snape did know. James Potter and the Marauders had taught him well. "Your aunt and uncle? Did they know about this?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"And they did nothing to stop it?"

"No. Uncle Vernon used to laugh sometimes, when Dudley knocked me down and sat on me. They didn't care. Dudley was their prince and I was just . . .their freaky nephew."

"I see." Severus' jaw was clenched. It would seem Potter had not led the posh existence his father had, as Snape had been led to believe given Dumbledore's assurances that the boy was being looked after well, living in a well-to-do Muggle home with everything he needed or wanted. "How long was this going on?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Ever since I can remember."

Snape knew he shouldn't have been surprised. Petunia had always been a narrow-minded harpy. He would have to speak to Dumbledore about it. Something needed to be done. Clearly Minerva had been right and the Dursleys were unfit guardians, the worst kind of Muggles. No magical child should have to put up with them, especially not Lily's son.

He put both hands upon the small boy's shoulders, kneeling down so he could look Harry in the eye. "It won't happen again. I will make certain of it."

Harry shook his head. "No, sir! Don't. I'm not supposed to tell. Uncle Vernon will—"

"—shut his fat face if he knows what's good for him," Severus interjected. "Do not worry, Harry. No harm shall come to you. You have my word."

Harry relaxed a fraction. He trusted the Potions Master. He had saved him twice now, for Harry was certain Severus had intervened when his broom went bonkers at the Quidditch match, though Ron and Hermione still had doubts about him. Hermione had insisted that in order to hex a broom, you had to concentrate and not blink once, and Snape had been looking right at Harry and not blinking.

But Harry also knew the same was required of a wizard casting a countercurse, he'd learned that from reading ahead in The Standard Book of Spells Level Two. He was sure Snape had been countering the Hurling Hex or whatever it was. It made no sense for Snape to want him dead, not after the troll. Not after becoming Harry's unofficial guardian and giving him the precious pocket watch with Lily's picture in it. Those were not the acts of a murderer. Someone else had been behind that jinx, Harry just didn't know who or why yet. Until he did, he would be careful to stick with his friends and Snape.

"Okay, Sev. Thank you."

Snape snorted. "Do not thank me yet. I have not done anything to earn it."

"Yes, you have. You saved me twice. Three times if you count this evening."

"Don't make it a habit, Potter," said the professor and he gently mussed the boy's hair. "Seeing the way trouble seems to follow you, I may as well teach you a few defensive spells."

"Really?" Harry's eyes shone. "You'd do that for me, Sev?"

"And for myself as well. All of these trips to the Hospital Wing to patch you up grow tiresome," said Snape.

"I'm sorry. I'll try and stay out of trouble." Harry apologized. He didn't want to be a burden.

Severus snorted. The sun would rise in the west the day a Potter didn't attract some kind of trouble. "Learning how to defend oneself is a necessary part of your education. But we'll discuss that later. After you've served your detention." Because I will not have you enduring what I had to in my schooldays. We have too much in common as it is, thought Snape darkly. It was ironic, that he, who had been the target of James Potter, was now protecting Potter's son against bullies. Perhaps it was some kind of cosmic joke.

Harry grimaced. He had almost forgotten that, with the discussion about the Dursleys. He hoped it wouldn't be too awful. Then again, he didn't see how it wouldn't be, since it was supposed to be a punishment. But there was one bright spot. He would be serving part of it in the library, his favorite place, and being useful.

They had reached the portrait hole and Snape bid Harry goodbye before Harry could speak the password to the Fat Lady. "Take the potion Madame Pomfrey gave you and go straight to bed. No studying tonight, you need sleep."

"But what about my homework, sir?"

"I shall speak to McGonagall and she will give you a slip that will allow you to hand in your homework a day late due to your injuries." The professor reassured him.

"Oh. That's good."

"Enough chitchat, Mr. Potter. Do as you're told. I shall see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Sev," Harry whispered, then he gave the tall wizard a brief hug. "Thanks for not totally kicking my arse."

"Humph! If you are late for my detention tomorrow night, young man, your backside will be singing a different tune. Sleep well." His arms went round the dark-haired imp and he gave the boy a quick squeeze, he was still not comfortable being so demonstrative, it had been too long since he had reason to give or receive affection. But he could remember spontaneously hugging Lily long ago, and Harry seemed to relish the contact, brief as it was.

Harry leaned into Severus' embrace for a moment longer, then he drew away. He didn't want the professor to think he was a wimp or a baby, but it felt good to be hugged. The Dursleys had never really touched him, unless it was to give him a shove in impatience, or a cuff in anger. Mostly, they had ignored him, unless there was work to be done. So Harry cherished these moments of affection between himself and Snape, especially now after this latest escapade. The hug told Harry that Snape was no longer furious and he was forgiven.

Harry turned and gave the password to the Fat Lady, who swung open wide and allowed the Potions Master and the wayward Gryffindor to pass into the tower.

Startled glances met them and everyone hushed and gaped when they saw the Head of Slytherin come through the portrait hole along with Harry.

Snape ignored the shocked uncomfortable looks and made a left out of the common room and down a short hall to Minerva's quarters.

Harry was bombarded with questions from his Housemates that he didn't feel like answering. He went upstairs to his room, he felt drained and exhausted, the duel plus his injuries had taken more out of him than he thought.

"Harry! What happened to you, mate?" Ron cried after seeing Harry's arm.

"Tell you tomorrow, Ron," he yawned. "I'm too tired now." He quickly changed into pajamas and drank down the potion.

His head had just touched the pillow when he was whisked away to the Land of Nod, where he stayed until the dawn.

"Severus? What brings you here at this hour?" asked McGonagall, upon opening her door to find the Potions Master standing there. "Has one of my Gryffindors been caught wandering where they shouldn't be again? Or does it have to do with Mr. Potter, who I was just about to go searching for?"

"The latter, Minerva. Might I come in? I have things to discuss with you regarding the boy that I'd rather the whole House wasn't privy to."

She nodded and ushered him into her quarters. Her sitting room looked very homey, with plaid green and blue chairs and a sofa, a thick rug upon the stone floor, and several tapestries upon the walls. One was of her family coat of arms, the others were of Loch Ness, a beautiful Highland glen, and two kittens playing in an old Wellington amid a bunched up tartan. Severus knew a little of the McGonagall family history, enough to suspect that all the tapestries had been woven by her clan, for before they were known for magic, they had been magnificent weavers, and the Muggle side still was known for their outstanding designs and colorful dyes. There was a cheery fire crackling in the grate and a clock and two or three china sculptures on the mantle. A book, a plate of scones, and a cup of tea lay forgotten upon a small end table next to the sofa. The room was lit by several lamps high in the ceiling, they cast a warm glow over the room.

"Do sit down, Severus," Minerva invited. "Tea? Scones?" she offered, because it would be impolite not to.

"No, thank you," he responded.

Pleasantries out of the way, the Scottish witch got down to business. "Just what has Potter gotten himself into now?"

Severus told her about the impromptu duel, Harry's injuries, and the punishment he had handed out to both Draco and Harry. "I would have done more to Malfoy, but I figured I would save the rest of my lecture for tomorrow, when I would be more alert and able to give him the full benefit of my temper."

"I see. A little of that goes a long way, Severus." Then her eyes narrowed. "Not that Mr. Malfoy doesn't deserve it, harming Harry that way. And insulting Lily too."

"Very true. His parents have spoiled him and now we must reap what they have sown," Severus said with a grimace. "But I will not allow another James Potter to take root in my House. Malfoy will learn to obey the rules just like the rest of my snakes or else."

"Then you wouldn't mind if I took points for the boy's wicked tongue?" Minerva asked, quite angry at Draco's attack upon Harry, who had done nothing to deserve it.

Severus sighed. "Of course I would. But in this case it is justified."

"I shall take twenty then, for an even fifty."

Snape scowled angrily. "I tell you, Minerva, were it allowed, I would have put the brat over my knee and given him a good spanking."

"He's had precious little of that, I'd wager," sniffed the Transfiguration Mistress.

"Like another bully I could name," Severus said darkly, knowing full well Minerva would guess whom he was referring to. "Speaking of bullies, I recently learned from Potter that Malfoy isn't the only bully he's had to deal with. Apparently his cousin is also allowed to bully him at home."

Minerva looked shocked. "What? But . . .Albus assured me that his relatives were treating him well!"

"Albus believes that if they gave the boy a roof over his head and food and clothing, he is being treated well. I doubt if he ever bothered to check and see how they behaved towards him. Potter told me that his aunt and uncle detested him, told him lies about his parents and called him freak and unnatural. They also permitted their fat slob of a son to punch and kick him whenever he felt like it." Severus' voice was cold with disapproval. "I also believe, based upon how thin and undernourished he looks, that they have probably starved him, or at the least fed him the bare minimum of food. He eats hardly anything at meals. Based upon how Potter reacted when he told me about his cousin, I also suspect his uncle abuses him in some fashion. Hardly the exalted existence Albus led me to believe Potter was living."

Minerva looked incensed. "Senile old gaffer! I warned him in the beginning that he never should have left the boy with those Muggles. I had been watching them for several hours before Hagrid arrived with baby Harry and they were the worst sort of Muggles, full of pretentions and without a scrap of imagination or original thought between all of them. I also knew that Lily had cut ties with her sister after she married, and one doesn't do that with family unless there is a darned good reason. I told the old coot he was making a mistake, but did he listen? No, of course not! The great and wise Albus Dumbledore knows what's best for everyone. Humph!"

"This is one mistake he will regret," Severus said grimly. "I shall be speaking to him about Potter's home life tomorrow. It is intolerable and I gave the boy my word that he would never go back there again."

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "You have? Since when do you care about Harry so much? Not that I mind, but it's just so . . ."

"Shocking?" Severus supplied, his mouth quirking. "Recent events have caused me to set aside my animosity towards James Potter and remember that Harry is also Lily's son. I made her a promise to look after her son and I intend to keep it. I know Petunia Dursley, we were neighbors when I was a boy, and she was full of malice and jealousy towards anything to do with magic even then. It appears she still is and extends that feeling to her nephew. No child deserves to live with such a bitter hag or her nasty husband. I shall be speaking with the Headmaster about becoming Potter's legal guardian due to extenuating circumstances."

"Good luck, Severus. Albus might fight you on it though."

"Not after he hears what I just told you." Snape disagreed. "Potter is his Golden Boy."

"True, but Albus has plans for him that don't involve you mentoring the boy, Severus."

"We'll just see about that, Minerva," Severus said determinedly. "I didn't spend four years as a spy and protect Harry from that troll only to allow him to be harmed by his own relatives. Sometimes the ones who are supposed to care for you most end up hurting you the most." Snape knew that all too well, having grown up with an abusive father.

"I will back you in this, Severus. Albus means well, but he doesn't always know what's best, and Harry ought to have been raised with someone who knows the magical world or at least respects it." McGonagall said firmly. "When will you be getting confirmation of Potter's health?"

"As soon as I make an appointment with Poppy. Which I intend to do first thing tomorrow. She can do scans and run a history on him, and if it turns out how I think it will, I shall have all the proof I need to show Albus how mistaken he was."

"How very Slytherin of you, Severus," Minerva chuckled.

"Naturally," was all Snape said. "One other thing. Due to Harry's injuries, he didn't have time to finish his homework last night. I think it fair if you write him a make-up pass for his classes tomorrow."

"All right. I would have done it anyhow, once I realized he was injured," the witch said. Then she yawned. "Please excuse me, Severus. I am not used to keeping such hours anymore."

"I shall bid you good night then, Minerva." Then he rose and took his leave. Tomorrow would be a busy day for all concerned.

Harry rose early, as was his wont, years of waking ahead of the Dursleys to cook breakfast was ingrained in him. He quickly went to take a shower and dress. When he returned to the common room to gather his bag and books for class, he found McGonagall waiting for him.

"Good morning, Potter. I understand you were involved in a duel with Mr. Malfoy last evening."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"My understanding is that Malfoy was more to blame than you. Nevertheless, do not let it happen again. How is your arm?"

"It feels better today. Madam Pomfrey told me I can keep the sling off unless it starts hurting." Harry told her.

"Good. Here is a pass for your professors whose homework is due today." She handed him a small card with the words, Make-up homework due to injury, written on it and below was her signature.

"Thanks, Professor." Harry sighed in relief.

"You have forty-eight hours to make-up your assignments." McGonagall said briskly.

Harry nodded and slipped the precious pass into his pocket. He would try and start on them after lunch, when he had an hour or so free.

Some fifteen minutes later, the rest of his Housemates were awake and getting ready for the day. At breakfast, Ron and Hermione asked what had happened to him last night.

"And don't say nothing, Harry, because I saw your arm in a sling last night," Ron said.

"I was going to ask Professor Snape a question about the potions homework and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle jumped me," Harry said quickly. "Then Malfoy challenged me to a duel."

Hermione gasped. "Harry! Dueling is forbidden. You could have gotten expelled!"

"I know. I tried to walk away, but Malfoy . . .he said some really nasty things about my mum, that she died because she was stupid enough to challenge You-Know-Who, and I just got mad. So we fought, and . . .Malfoy cast some kind of curse on me that broke my arm and made my nose bleed."

"Rotten git! What happened then?" asked Ron.

"Professor Snape came out of his quarters and he yelled at us both and took points—"

"He took points from Gryffindor, right?" Ron scowled. "Greasy unfair git! Did he give you detention too?"

"Yes, but—"

"Figures! He's always out to get Gryffindors and I'll bet he let Malfoy off with a smack on the wrist."

Harry shook his head. "No, he didn't. We both got thirty points off and our wands taken away and detention for three days."

"Your wand was taken away?" Ron gaped.

"Yeah. I'll get it back for class though."

"And you have detention with Malfoy too?" Hermione asked.

"Why did you get detention if Malfoy started it?" Ron demanded. "How is that fair?"

"Ron, he broke school rules too," Hermione reminded him. "It doesn't matter who started it, dueling isn't allowed, no matter what."

"That's ridiculous—" Ron began.

"No, it's not. I knew I shouldn't have jinxed him back, I should have left. But I let my temper take over and . . .well . . .at least Snape's not going to report it to the Headmaster. And he did bring me to the Hospital Wing himself and I think he tore strips off Malfoy for starting a duel and making him take points from Slytherin."

"About time!" Ron said, somewhat mollified by that information. He detested Malfoy for his sly and snobbish ways.

"But that's not all that happened last night." Harry then told them about his visit to Madam Pince and trying to help her restore the library along with Snape.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Oh! I would love to help, Harry! I don't have money to donate, well not a lot, but maybe I could start a collection fund. And any students who want to could donate some money, Knuts, Sickles, Galleons, whatever and then we could donate the lot to Madam Pince. She couldn't refuse that. I know at least some Gryffindors and all the Ravenclaws would donate something."

"I think all the students would agree that we need to rebuild the library," Ron said. "I don't have money to give but maybe I could help some other way? Like polishing the furniture or something?"

"That would be good. And Hermione, why don't you also ask students to see if they might donate rare spellbooks instead of money, since so many of ours were damaged?" Harry suggested, recalling Severus offering to donate some volumes from his private collection.

"That's a capital idea, Harry! I'll get started on making flyers and posting them in the Entrance Hall with some collection boxes for money and books for each House. Maybe I could ask the professors to post a flyer in their common rooms for me too? If everyone works together, we should have the library restored by next term." Hermione said eagerly, her eyes shining.

Harry then turned his attention to his toast and a gammon of bacon, which was what he was used to eating at home. It was barely enough to sustain a growing eleven-year-old, but Harry felt full after he ate it and drank his pumpkin juice. He had become so used to eating half-rations that it seemed normal to him, though if any of the teachers had seen how little he ate they would have been appalled. Even though he knew that at school he could eat as much as he wanted, his eating habits remained the same as they had at home. He absently tucked an apple and a banana into his pocket for a snack for later, and shot a glance at Ron, who had just polished off scrambled eggs with onions, a muffin, bacon, and was now starting in on some pancakes dripping with syrup and whipped topping. Where does he put it all? Harry wondered in astonishment.

Hermione, in contrast, was eating a bowl of granola, vanilla yogurt, and some sliced melon, strawberries, and a hardboiled egg. Harry rarely saw her eat sausage or bacon and she also tended to stay away from sweets, except for sugared orange slices and pumpkin pasties.

Harry was reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice when a large raven flew into the hall. The bird was twice the size of a normal raven and it swooped down gracefully upon the Gryffindor table, landing gently amid the bowls of porridge and platters of fruit and sausage. It eyed the students and gave an insouciant fillip of its tail feathers before helping itself to a sausage link.

Some of the students gasped and others giggled at the raven's insolent manner. A few whistled and held out morsels of fruit or bread.

But the bird ignored them and walked straight towards Harry.

Harry gaped as the raven fluttered onto his left shoulder and peered into his face.

He flinched as the sharp beak opened and for an instant feared the bird was either going to bite his nose or rip off his glasses.

Instead, the raven spoke. "Mr. Potter," it began, mimicking the tone and inflection of the Potions professor so exactly that Harry could have sworn Snape was right by his side, talking to him. "You will report to the infirmary immediately after breakfast, Madam Pomfrey wishes to discuss a few things with you. Do not dawdle, but be prompt, or else you shall lose more points for Gryffindor."

Harry gaped. "He sounds just like Professor Snape! Is it some kind of spell?"

The raven made a sudden loud squawking sound and shook its head. "Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!" Stupid poem!" Its beady black eyes shone with mischief and intelligence.

"No. Ravens can mimic anyone or anything. And he's particularly good at it," laughed Oliver Wood, the Quidditch Captain. "That's Skullduggery, Snape's familiar. He doesn't need parchment to deliver a message, all you have to do is tell him what to say and he'll repeat it, word for word and voice for voice."

"He's quite a clever lad!" praised Percy.

"He's an even better prankster than—" began George.

"—we are. Good old Skull!" finished Fred. "Drives Peeves insane! Watch this." Fred pulled three lemon drops from his pocket and placed them on the table.

Skull immediately flew onto the table, picked up a lemon drop in his foot and said in Dumbledore's voice, "Would you care for a lemon drop, my boy?" The raven then held out the sweet for one of the twins to take.

"Don't mind if I do, sir!" chuckled George, and he took the sweet and popped it in his mouth.

Skull bobbed his head, then picked up a lemon drop and swallowed it. "One for you and one for me," he said, still using the Headmaster's genial tone.

Several Gryffindors clapped and a few laughed outright.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "Won't he get sick from eating that? I thought candy wasn't good for birds."

"Skull eats everything," said Angelina Johnson. "He's a raven, they eat garbage and dead things."

Skull hissed and then cried, "I vant to suck your blood!" mimicking Bella Lugosi's Count Dracula to the life. He then pecked at Dean's arm gently and stuck his beak into Ron's beaker of pumpkin juice and drank some.

"Hey! Get your own!" Ron cried.

"Get your own! Get your own!" the raven cawed, clearly delighted to have a new voice to mimic.

"Bloody damn menace!" Ron grumbled, shoving his beaker away. "I'll bet he's Snape's spy."

Skull tilted his head and then snapped, "Mind your language, Weasley, or else it's detention and twenty points from Gryffindor."

Rom flinched at the familiar tone of Snape's voice censoring him. Before he could try and shoo the annoying creature away, Skullduggery took flight, soaring across the hall to land lightly upon his master's shoulder, where he began to preen his black feathers and also groom Severus's hair absently.

Harry saw Snape reach up and stroke the raven gently. "I've never seen him before. How come?"

"Skull comes and goes as he pleases," Oliver told him. "He's into everything too, so you'd best watch what you say. There are no secrets around a raven, they'll repeat anything, no matter how private or how embarrassing, if they happen to overhear it. That's just how they are."

"Ravens are the keepers of the old magics," said Katie Bell.

"Ravens can also predict when someone will die," Fred said in sepulchral tones.

"Or they can bring good fortune," added Alicia Spinnet.

"Skull is a greater raven from the Tower of London," added a Gryffindor sixth year. "He was born there and I've heard he returns there for a few weeks each year, because of the legend."

"What legend?" asked Hermione.

"You mean, you've never heard about the legend of the ravens in the Tower of London?"

"The one that says there must be at least six ravens at the Tower or else the White Tower shall crumble to dust and if all the ravens ever leave, than the Tower of London shall fall into ruin and so will England? That legend?"

The sixth year nodded. "Well, that's one of them. The Muggle version. We wizards have our own legend. The ravens are Keepers of the Old Ways and they keep watch over England. It's said that they warn of the coming of evil and darkness and if they aren't heeded or a wizard does not show them proper respect, they will all leave and then the darkness shall cover the land, never to be lifted. That's why it's a crime to mistreat a raven, or to kill one. And when a raven speaks, wizards listen, even if it sounds like nonsense."

"How did Snape end up with a familiar like that?" asked Ron. "I would have thought he'd have a bat."

"Skullduggery chose him." Oliver replied. "Ravens do the choosing, not the wizard or witch. And once you're a raven's chosen, it's for life."

"I wish a raven would choose me," said a girl wistfully.

"How do they choose people?" asked Harry.

Percy shrugged. "Nobody knows. It's one of the great mysteries. Like wands choosing the wizard."

"How come Snape wants you to go see Pomfrey?" asked Ron, eyeing Harry up and down.

"Uh . . .she probably wants to make sure I'm all healed from last night," Harry fibbed. He wished Ron hadn't reminded him. He had a sinking feeling that this visit to the infirmary wasn't about his recent injuries, but the threatened physical Snape had promised he would set up. For a moment he considered not going, but then though better of it. For one thing, he didn't want to lose more points for Gryffindor, for another, he feared that if he didn't show up on his own, Snape would take matters into his own hands and drag him by the ear to the Hospital Wing. "Would you tell McGonagall where I am, so she won't mark me late for class?"

"Sure, mate."

"I'll take notes for you," offered Hermione. "Then you won't need to worry about missing anything."

"Thanks," said Harry gratefully, hoping the exam was really short and he could get back to class as soon as possible. He headed out of the hall just before the bell rang for the first class, figuring the sooner he got to the Hospital Wing, the sooner he could get the dreaded appointment over with. He fervently hoped there would be no vaccinations needed and that Severus would be there so he could ask him more questions about his raven familiar.

"One last scan, Mr. Potter, and then we're done," announced Madam Pomfrey as she ran her wand over Harry's abdomen.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The exam had only taken five minutes or so, but he felt as if Pomfrey had examined every inch of him with her spells, and even though the spells didn't hurt, he still felt rather embarrassed.

The mediwitch didn't say much during the scans, just hmmed and muttered as she noted things down upon a piece of parchment. Harry wondered if that were a good or bad thing.

He was the only one in the infirmary this morning, except for the mediwitch and Professor Snape, who had appeared suddenly right after Harry had crossed the threshold of the Hospital Wing, Skull riding upon his shoulder. "You have arrived promptly, Mr. Potter. Five points to Gryffindor."

"Sir, you're here!" Harry exclaimed.

Snape arched an eyebrow. "I am. As your current guardian, I need to make certain you are in good health, and therefore am present to discuss the results of your examination with Madam Pomfrey."

"Be a good boy and you'll get a lolly," Skull croaked, and made a sound remarkably like laughter.

Harry grinned and said, "He's your familiar, isn't he?"

"Yes. He is a greater Tower raven, and comes from a long line of sacred birds," Severus told him. "Skullduggery, say hello to Harry."

The raven cocked his head, and repeated in Snape's voice, "Hello, Harry."

The Potions Master sighed. "Must you mimic me so often, Skull?"

"Indeed, professor," his familiar said in the cultured tones of an Oxford don. Then the raven added in a sweet syrupy voice, "I love you, Sev."

Harry almost exploded from laughter and even Pomfrey was smirking.

"Stop that, you impudent rascal!"

Skull tucked his head under his wing and made some very realistic sniveling noises. "Don't you love me anymore, Sevvy?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "For the love of Merlin, bird, quit the dramatics."

The raven wailed like a newborn baby, loud and obnoxious.

"Wretch!" Snape growled fondly. "Do you not know the answer by now, O Brilliant One?"

Skullduggery stopped wailing and hissed, "Obviously." Then he climbed upon Snape's head and began to sing lustily, "O Danny boy, the pipes—" in a fine Scottish tenor.

"Skull! Quiet!" ordered his exasperated master. "Poppy can't concentrate with your caterwauling."

"—the pipes are calling—"

"Every time he comes home from the Tower he acts as if he forgot all the manners I ever taught him," grumbled Snape. He scowled, but his glare had little effect. "Enough!"

"From glen to glen," warbled the raven.

"Or else no sunflower seeds and ground beef with honey."

Skull cut off in mid note. That was his favorite treat. "Everyone's a critic!" the bird snorted, then he flew down and perched upon the hospital bed next to Harry, turning his back and acting affronted.

Harry giggled and cautiously extended a hand.

"Careful. He's been known to nip," warned Severus.

But the raven allowed Harry to scratch him along his back, making a sound like a contented cat.

Poppy began her scans then.

After the last one, she waved her wand and a small vial of a deep green potion appeared upon her tray. "Please drink this potion, Mr. Potter. It's a Nutrient Suppliment."

Harry obediently drank it down, it tasted like leafy green vegetables, not quite as unpleasant as one would believe. "Why do I need that?" he asked after he had swallowed the entire draft.

"Because you are severely vitamin and mineral deficient." Poppy answered. "My scans showed that you have had inadequate meals ever since you were three or four onwards, which has resulted in decreased bone mass, appetite, and malnutrition. Due to your below average weight, you have not yet hit a growth spurt, as is normal for your age. You are lacking in iron and several essential amino acids, calcium, fiber, and potassium. How long have those Muggles been starving you?"

Harry opened his mouth to protest, as he had been taught to never reveal the truth, but then he halted. Severus had promised to protect him, so maybe it was time to stop lying. He gazed at Severus uncertainly.

Snape laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right. You can trust Poppy. She's sworn to maintain patient confidentiality."

Harry took a deep breath. If Severus said it was all right, Harry knew he had naught to fear. Then he began to speak. "They—they never really gave me proper meals. I always had to wait till they were done, then I got what was left over. I helped Aunt Petunia cook and wash up after, I wasn't allowed to eat with the rest of them."

"Why not?" Severus demanded.

"Because I was a freak and not fit to eat with normal people," Harry replied tonelessly, with the air of someone who has been made to repeat such things by rote.

Madam Pomfrey gasped. "Mr. Potter, you are no such thing!"

Severus' mouth tightened and he looked at the mediwitch. "What else? Any sign of an ulcer or other digestive complaint?"

She shook her head. "No, though his stomach has shrunken due to lack of proper meals. But that can be fixed by a healthy balanced diet of small meals each day that increase portions slowly. There is also evidence of a broken wrist and a few scars from glass and poor eyesight."

Snape questioned him. "How did you break your wrist?"

"Dudley pushed me down the stairs. Another friend of his shoved me through a porch window."

"How awful!" exclaimed Poppy. "I hope they were punished properly."

"Oh no, ma'am. Dudley would tell Aunt Petunia I was clumsy and tripped and it was my own fault."

"And she believed that?" Poppy was appalled.

"She always believed Dudley, no matter what. He was her son."

"And you were her nephew."

"That never counted." Harry said simply.

Severus reached out and brushed Harry's bangs aside and touched a small scar above his left eyebrow. "Where did you get this?"

"That one I got when Dudley tripped me and I fell and hit my head on the cupboard under the stairs."

"They made you do chores then?" Severus surmised.

"Yes, sir. All the time. I had to wash the clothes, dishes, and scrub the bathrooms. Do the weeding and gardening and vacuuming. Cook breakfast." He ticked off chores on his fingers.

"What did your aunt and uncle and cousin do?" asked the Potions Master.

"Uncle Vernon worked, Aunt Petunia went to her clubs or shopping and Dudley didn't do anything except watch the telly or get his friends to play Harry Hunting with him. Oh, and sometimes they used to wreck my cupboard for fun."

"Your cupboard?" Snape repeated, his eyes smoldering.

"Yes, because it was where I slept."

"Excuse me? You slept in a cupboard?"

Harry nodded. "Ever since I could remember. Dudley wouldn't give up his second bedroom and Aunt Petunia said it was better than the garage."

Poppy looked as if she were about to explode, or weep, or tear someone's throat out. Severus looked grim and furious, but unsurprised. Petunia had never really had much of a heart, and it seemed that where her nephew was concerned, she had no heart whatsoever.

"Those—those filthy despicable Muggles!" Pomfrey cried.

Severus nodded, then said, "Blood doesn't always tell, and it doesn't guarantee affection and love either." He knew that all too well, and once more he marveled at how similar Harry's childhood was to his own.

"Severus, he cannot go back to those disgusting people," Poppy said stridently.

"He won't be. I'll make sure of that," Severus stated firmly. "Are you through, then?"

"Almost. You'll be needing new glasses, Mr. Potter. I can have them ordered from Wizarding Occulars and shipped here in two days. Those glasses you have now aren't fit for the rubbish bin. Would you like to pick out frames?"

"Uh, okay."

She handed him a catalogue and he looked at the frames. Then he picked out ones that were narrow rimmed and looked better than his old clunky black ones.

"I'd like these, please." He showed her which ones.

"Very well. Now, off to class with you, . I shall owl you when your glasses arrive and Professor Snape shall make sure you receive your Nutrient Potion every day." Poppy shooed him from the infirmary.

Skullduggery flew upon Severus' shoulder and cawed a goodbye to Harry. He accompanied Snape up to the Headmaster's office, knowing Albus would most likely be there this morning.

"Enter," called Albus cheerily.

Severus opened the door and walked in.

"Ah, Severus! What brings you to my office? Hello, Skull! Glad to see you back again."

"Hello, Albus!" the raven cawed. Then he flew off Severus' shoulder and perched upon the back of the Headmaster's chair. He began to preen himself lazily.

"I have an important matter to discuss with you." Severus began. "It concerns Potter."

"Harry? What has the boy done now, Severus? Blown up a cauldron? You must be patient, he's still learning."

"This has nothing to do with Potter's potions skills." Snape interjected before the Headmaster could go off on a tangent.

"Oh? Then what?"

"How often did you go and check up on Potter while he was growing up with those Muggles?" Severus demanded, his eyes hard.

"I . . .well, I had Mrs. Figg living near them and she used to watch Harry occasionally. She assured me he was a sweet even-tempered child, quiet and polite."

"Did you ever ask her if she noticed anything . . .unusual about him? Such as being too thin for his age, or starting at a raised voice?"

"Why, no. I assumed if there were something wrong, she would have told me." Albus said, clearly puzzled. "Why are you asking me about this? I told you long ago that I had set strong blood wards about the house and you need never fear Death Eaters getting through the barrier."

Snape's mouth twisted. "You might have made wards against the devil you knew but what about the one you didn't know? What good are blood wards if the one they are meant to protect is treated like an outcast or a slave by his family?"

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "Severus, calm down. I don't understand."

"You will. Listen." Severus told the Headmaster everything Harry had said to him, after swearing him to a Vow of Silence. He also added in Poppy's testimony telling him of the daily Nutrient Potion Harry needed to drink.

Dumbledore had gone pale and struggled to make sense out of everything. " I wasn't aware of any of this, Severus. You must believe me, but I had no idea what was going on at the Dursleys. After the note I had left in the bassinet, reminding Petunia to care for her sister's child, as Lily would have cared for hers—"

Severus snorted. "Petunia wasn't Lily. Lily had more empathy in her fingernail than Petunia has in her entire body. You should have made sure he would be looked after."

"He was their blood, and a baby, I assumed they would grow to care for him . . ."

"Did you now? You ought to have made certain, Albus! All this time, while you were puttering about trying to decipher that bloody prophecy, your savior was being bullied and harassed . . .by his own family! Anything could have happened!"

Albus looked regretful and upset. "If I had suspected that something were not right—"

The raven made a disapproving noise and cried, "You're a bad boy, Al! A Ba-a-d boy!"

"Quiet!" snapped Severus.

"Yes, Sev," the bird said meekly, but his beady eyes followed the Headmaster intently, and he tisked at him.

Snape made an impatient gesture with one hand. "You should have made sure, Albus! You should seen with your own two eyes, not relied on Arabella. Not for this! Not after what happened with me."

The Headmaster looked suddenly old, and every one of his hundred and fifty years. "You are right, Severus. My carelessness could have cost the boy his life. But what's done is done. Harry is here now, safe at Hogwarts."

"But what about later? Who will save him at the end of the term, when he must return to a household that despises him for what he is and wizards in general? How safe will your Golden Boy be then?" challenged Snape.

Skull made a gagging noise and toppled over to land with a thump on Albus' desk.

Severus nodded grimly at his familiar's antics. "Exactly. Thank you, Skull."

Albus chuckled and went to stroke the glossy feathers.

The raven turned about and nipped the wizard in reproof. "Bloody damn Muggles! There's nothing worse than an old coot who willna admit he's wrong." Minerva's voice emerged from the raven's mouth.

Albus winced. "Severus, if I remove him from Privet Drive, the wards shall fall and then Harry will be vulnerable. He has to remain there."

"Remain in a place he hates, with people who hate him? No, Albus. Do that and you are no better than my mother, who condemned me to a life of hell because she hadn't the courage to send me away!"

"I am sorry, Severus. But what else can I do?"

"Transfer the wards to me. I am his unofficial guardian, but I can make it legal."

"Severus, that's very noble of you, but—"

"Nobility be damned, Albus! I am doing what is right, what someone should have done for me long ago." Severus declared pointedly. "I will not stand by and allow a child I promised to protect suffer the torments of bullies and bastard Muggles. What is worth more, Albus, your bloody prophecy or one child's life?"

"That is unfair, Severus!"

"No. What's unfair is you playing God with people's lives. The Dursleys aren't schoolboys and this isn't some prank, someday they will go too far and then where will you be?"

"Severus, you cannot take him. Your cover as my agent-"

"Is blown all to pieces. My days as your spy are over. My duty now is to Lily's son. Transfer the damn wards. Petunia broke her promise to you. Now let her suffer the consequences. I assume your contract with her was the standard one?" Severus asked. He knew that when Albus had brought Harry there and linked the wards to Petunia, he had most likely included a clause that stated if the child was mistreated and removed permanently from said residence before seventeen, it was a breach of contract, and bad luck and trouble would harry them for years. Such was a standard penalty for oathbreakers in a world where words were binding.

"Very well. If you are determined upon this course of action, Severus—"

Snape met the other's eyes steadily. "I am, Albus Dumbledore. What promises I make, I keep."

"Go to the Ministry and have them draw up the papers for guardianship. I shall see to the Dursleys. Despite what you may think, I don't condone hurting a child for any reason." The blue eyes suddenly flashed chained lightning. "Then you can speak to Harry and explain what we wish to do. He must agree before I shall sign as a witness."

"All right. I shall speak to him tonight, after his detention." Severus rose and turned to leave. He whistled for the raven, who quit eating all Albus' lemon drops and flew onto his arm. "One way or another, this should be resolved soon." Then he swept out of the office and headed towards the dungeons. He had a class to teach and a trip to make and a child's future to ensure. He just hoped that he would be able to live up to his promise and that Harry would not reject him as a guardian.

Hermione had managed to get a large flyer posted in the Entrance Hall requesting donations to help restore the library of either books or money. She had set up wooden boxes with House symbols on them so students could either put money in them, or books in the basket below them. She had also managed to copy some more flyers and handed them out to the prefects at each table, requesting that they post them in their common rooms. No one seemed to object and indeed many students seemed eager to help out. Hermione was delighted with the response she was getting.

Harry couldn't wait for the weekend, when Professor Snape would take him to Gringotts to withdraw some money so he too could make generous contribution to the library fund. He would make it an anonymous donation, only he and Severus would know about it. He was already famous for living instead of dying, he didn't want to be known as The Boy Who Was Rich too. Even if it was true.

What he wasn't looking forward to was tonight's detention with Malfoy. He was afraid Malfoy would try and get him in trouble again. He also had heard stories about how unpleasant Snape was during his detentions towards students. Harry did not enjoy it at all when Severus was upset with him, it made him feel ashamed, that he had let Severus down by misbehaving. He doubted if Malfoy felt the same. When he had glanced over at the Slytherin table, he had seen Malfoy laughing and talking with his friends, acting as if nothing was wrong. In contrast, Harry was filled with trepidation and could barely swallow his lunch.

Up at the staff table, Snape picked at his lunch as well, nervousness making him lose his appetite. He almost regretted his rash decision to be Potter's legal guardian. Almost, because he feared he might do as poor a job as Potter's relatives had done. Not that he would ever neglect the boy, but Severus knew there was more to raising a child than simply supplying material comforts and necessities. Could he be what Harry needed? Did he want to be a father figure to an eleven-year-old boy, even if he was his beloved Lily's child? Most of all, would Harry want him to play the role James Potter would have filled? Snape was certain that Dumbledore and Minerva had told the boy only good things about the former Quidditch player. None of them would have wanted to tarnish Potter's image by mentioning how cruel and nasty he had been towards Severus at school. Everyone always seemed to make excuses for Potter during school, shrugging off the things he did to Severus and to others as mere pranks, but there had been a dark side to James that few had ever seen save his victims. Lily had seen it, though. Had seen it and had somehow managed to . . .overlook it, forgive it? Severus would never understand how she could have fallen for the arsehole Potter had been back then. He shook his head. There was no sense in speculating over what was past. What mattered was now.

Despite his being Head of Slytherin and dealing with children on a daily basis, Severus was afraid he would not be an adequate guardian. He had not had a decent father growing up, Tobias had been an abusive drunk who had battered his wife and son into fearful obedience, until Severus rebelled at seventeen and left, though not before he nearly beat the bastard to death. Severus hated the fact that he had inherited Tobias's hair trigger temper. It was something he worked hard to control daily, especially around smartarse arrogant students who delighted in mouthing off to every teacher in the school. But at the end of the day he could retreat to his quarters and meditate, or brew, or drink a cup of tea to calm himself down. He wouldn't have that option with Harry, who was his ward, and would therefore be able to stay in his quarters if he chose. What if Harry caused him to lose control? What if he raised a hand to the boy? Hurt him the way Tobias had hurt him? Lily had told him to love the boy as she would have. But what if he was incapable of such a thing? His experiences as a spy had made him bitter and hard, how could he love again after so long? Yet, he did care about the boy. He felt compassion and anger at what the child had endured. He was concerned when Harry was hurt and determined that he not be bullied by the likes of Malfoy. But was that love? And what if he did grow to love the boy, but Harry rejected him?

He felt his head start to throb with all of the conflicting thought and emotions swirling in his head. He could not believe how much turmoil one small boy had made out of his life. What had possessed him in making that declaration? You know why, Severus. Because you didn't trust Albus not to send him back to that hellhole. Because no child should have to endure what you did for all those years. And because you promised Lily you'd take care of him, whispered his conscience.

He would not be foresworn, but at the same time the task he had undertaken seemed monumental. He would be responsible for Harry until the boy was of age, and probably beyond that too. It was a very sobering and frightening thought. Once again he asked himself if he were doing the right thing. How could he ever measure up to the ghost of bloody James Potter, hero? And why would he even want to try? He sneered mentally at himself. No, Harry would have to accept him as he was, a flesh and blood man, not some storybook fantasy father.

He stabbed a forkful of chicken and dumplings and swallowed. He would simply have to wait and see.

Draco was feeling quite satisfied with himself after class that day. He had managed to win ten points for answering Sprout's question about self-pollinating snapdragons correctly, and he wasn't all that concerned over the upcoming detention. He knew Snape would give the lion's share of the dirty work to Potter, since Potter deserved it for starting with him and was a Gryffindor besides. Draco, as a Slytherin, wouldn't be doing all that much.

He sauntered into the common room, prepared to ask Blaise or Daniel Mott if they wanted to play a round of Exploding Snap before dinner. But he didn't see any of his yearmates in the common room, just some older third, fourth, and fifth years. Before he could head to his room, Marcus Flint, the Slytherin prefect for that year, caught him by the shoulder. "Malfoy. I want to talk to you."

Malfoy looked up at the beefy Quidditch Captain, his grey-blue eyes puzzled. "What for, Flint? I was going to—"

"Shut up. And it's Prefect Flint to you, firstie." Flint interrupted, angered by the younger boy's lack of respect as well as what he had done previously to earn the displeasure of his Head of House. He pulled Draco into a corner of the room, far enough away to not be overheard too much. Then he began his lecture, because Malfoy needed it more than any other Slytherin he'd ever known, the little snob. "How is it that you manage to get Professor Snape in such a snarky mood and it's only been a few months into the term? What the bloody hell is wrong with you, dueling Potter right in front of Snape's quarters? Do you think he's deaf? Or stupid?"

"No, but Potter started it. He cast a Repelling Charm at me." Draco whined.

"That's a load of dung, Malfoy, and we both know it." Flint sneered. "I'm not stupid. Potter doesn't have the balls to start a duel, and the professor told me himself Potter was in the dungeons to ask him a question about homework."

"How was I supposed to know that? He could've been lying!" protested Draco. He couldn't believe Flint was getting on his arse for dueling bloody Potter.

"All you had to do, Malfoy, was go to the professor. He would have dealt with Potter. Instead, you had to act like some rich toff and duel him! Which made us lose fifty points! Idiot! I thought you were supposed to have a brain, Malfoy!"

Draco stiffened. "So what if I thrashed Potter in a duel? He's a Gryffindor, we're supposed to hate them. And I didn't lose fifty points, it was only thirty."

"Only thirty, he says. Listen, you arrogant little shit, you're not supposed to lose any points, or as little as possible." Flint growled. "You're especially not supposed to make Professor Snape take points from his own House for breaking one of the most important rules the school has. And, for your information, Malfoy, McGonagall took twenty more points for you saying some nasty thing about her Golden Boy's sainted mum!"

"He insulted mine too!"

"Big deal! You didn't have to flaming hex him till he bled. If you wanted to get back at him, there are a dozen different ways you could have done it without involving the teachers. Instead you act as stupid as your pals Crabbe and Goyle. Unbelievable!" Flint shook his head in disgust. "Just for that, you're going to get an additional punishment from me."

"Huh? You—you can't do that!" squeaked Malfoy.

"Watch me. I'm a prefect, and I have the authority to punish you little snakes if you step out of line. You aren't any better than the rest of us, Malfoy, so quit bloody looking down at us like we were dirt beneath your feet. I could give a rat's ass if your daddy's pals with the Minister. So, because you caused us to lose all those points, you're going to do some extra chores around here this weekend. And you're going to write two hundred times, I will never lose fifty points from Slytherin again. We'll see if that won't cure you of your bloody attitude, Malfoy!"

"I have homework!"

Flint shrugged. "Too damn bad. You can do that after you've served the House and written your lines. Next time keep your wand in your damn pocket. Got me?" Flint glared at the smaller boy threateningly. "Or else I'll take you out back and show you what it's like to duel a real wizard."

Draco shrank from him. The look on Flint's face was cold and hard and Malfoy suddenly was afraid. Marcus looked as though he meant every word and Draco knew if the other ever lifted a wand to him, he was dead meat. "Okay, Prefect."

"Good. Now get out of my sight. And remember, what you do in public reflects on your House and everyone in it. So don't disgrace us again, Malfoy!" He gave the blond a rough shove and Malfoy stumbled into the middle of the room.

Several of the other Slytherins studying gave him cold looks of disapproval. Draco felt himself flush and thought angrily, how dare they judge me! I'm the son of Lucius Malfoy, the Minister's right hand! Someday, they'll be sorry!

He turned and headed to his room, the eyes of his Housemates like daggers between his shoulderblades.

Then, if that weren't bad enough, Professor Snape himself called him into his office an half-an-hour earlier than his detention to dress him down also.

"Prefect Flint told me he assigned you some lines and chores in House this weekend." Snape began, eyeing Malfoy sternly. "He told me your attitude leaves something to be desired. I must say I agree with him. You believe you are above the rules, Mr. Malfoy. You are a spoiled bully who thinks you can get away with anything. You are very much mistaken." Severus said coldly. "I do not tolerate bullies, in my House or out of it. What you did is inexcusable."

"Why?" Draco asked sullenly. He was tired of everyone ragging on him for beating up poor little Potter. "It was just Potter. He's a Gryffindor, we're supposed to be enemies."

"Rivals, not enemies," Severus snapped. "There's a difference. Why did you cast the Bone Break Curse on him when he only cast a Repelling Charm? That curse should only be used when you fear for your life. Did Potter frighten you so much that you thought he might kill you?"

Malfoy snorted. "Professor, please! Potter, frighten me? I knew more hexes by the time I was three than Potter learned in two months here." He boasted.

Snape was not impressed, only irritated. "And yet you cast a hex designed to injure severely at a boy who knew barely a month's worth of spells. And that makes you proud? To defeat an opponent who is so much less skilled than you? What does that prove?"

"That I'm better than him?" Draco said cockily.

"Wrong!" Snape's hand slammed down upon his desk. Draco jumped. "It shows me that you are an insufferable bully and a fool. You could have killed another student last night, boy! Aimed incorrectly, you could have shattered his nose, driving pieces into his brain, snapped his femur and severed an artery, causing internal bleeding. Potter could have died, and all because you felt like proving how superior you were! Because your ego couldn't stand the competition! Tell me, Malfoy, what would you have done if Potter died that night?"

Malfoy's eyes went wide. "I . . .don't know, sir."

"Maybe you ought to think about it then! Because if you had killed Potter, even your father's influence couldn't have kept you from being expelled and maybe arrested as well. Not to mention branded a murderer at eleven years old. Your mother would surely be proud of you then, wouldn't she, Malfoy?" Snape's disapproval was palpable.

Malfoy dropped his gaze to the floor. He had never considered that his hex could have had such disastrous results. "No, sir."

"What was that?"

"No, sir," Malfoy repeated loudly.

"No, she would be consumed by shame and horror, that her son could become a cold-blooded killer over such a minor thing as meeting a rival student in the corridor. Such spells as that should only be used in dire circumstances, not in some pathetic schoolboy quarrel. If your father didn't teach you that, he should have. Never use a curse unless you intend to cripple or kill an opponent. An opponent who seeks to take your life, not a fellow student who has barely a month's worth of study. Such a victory only proves that you are a coward, Malfoy. Because only a coward picks on a boy weaker than he is."

"I'm not a coward, sir!" Malfoy cried angrily.

"No? Prove it then. Act like a Slytherin. Follow the rules and earn points for your House. We already have a bad reputation because of certain individuals, do not add to it, Malfoy! I will not permit a student of mine to become a gutless bullying coward. And if I cannot get through to you, perhaps your mother can."

Draco gulped and turned pale as snow. "You haven't told her, Professor!" he wailed.

"Not yet. Nor have I informed the Headmaster of what happened. I am giving you one chance to shape up and behave. Keep on as you have, Malfoy, and I will have no choice but to inform Narcissa of the shame her son has brought down upon her."

"No, sir! Please don't," Draco whimpered. He did not fear his mother, not as he did Lucius, but he did value her opinion and respected her, and he knew she would be very disappointed if she knew how he had behaved. She had never agreed with Lucius teaching their son any dark magic. She was the only one who had ever showed him kindness and affection as a small child and Draco loved her fiercely. He loved Lucius as well, but that love was intermingled with fear and therefore not as enduring. "I'll be good."

Severus snorted. "We'll see about that. Go into the lab and sit down at a desk. Potter should be here shortly and then you can start scrubbing. While you are doing that, I can finish grading more of this infernal homework, which half of you don't even bother reading."

"Yes, sir." Draco hurried from the office, his ears smarting from the stinging critique. He could not really deny what Snape said was true, and that made him resentful and irritable. It wasn't fair! He'd bet a fistful of Galleons that Potter wasn't being lectured like this by his Head! Sometimes he wished Snape wasn't so bloody strict and unbending. Rules were meant to be broken. Hadn't Snape ever learned that?

Harry arrived at Snape's lab at precisely seven o'clock, as the professor had stated. He walked in and saw Malfoy sitting at a desk.

The other boy looked up and sneered at him.

Harry ignored him, peering once more at his pocket watch and smiling at his mum before shutting it and tucking it inside his shirt pocket, beneath his robes.

"What's that you got there, Potter? An heirloom from your dear old dad?"

"None of your business, Malfoy." Harry said coldly, taking a seat across the room.

As if on cue, Snape entered the room, silent as a shadow, his familiar perched upon his shoulder. The door shut with a bang behind him. "Now then, you both know why you are here. You will be scrubbing cauldrons over there," His finger pointed to the back of the room, near the sink, where twenty cauldrons were stacked, sticky with crusted on goop. "Without magic for two or three hours. There are gloves on the counter, and wire scrub brushes and soap also. Well? What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Why are you still sitting there like brainless lumps? Get started! Anything you don't finish will be carried over to the next day."

Draco gazed at the pile of dirty cauldrons in dismay. "All those?"

Snape gritted his teeth. "Yes, all those. If you don't quit dawdling, Malfoy, I shall make you scrub the floor as well. On your hands and knees."

Draco jumped up and ran over to the sink.

Harry was already there, rolling up his sleeves and pulling on the dragonhide gloves. He was no stranger to cleaning things, not after growing up at the Dursleys. He took a long handled scrub brush and filling a bucket with water and soap. He knew better than to groan and complain like Malfoy was doing. That only made your punishment ten times worse.

He noticed that there were cauldrons of different sizes and materials. Most were the standard pewter cauldron, two were huge iron cauldrons, and a few were silver and gold cauldrons. Despite the fact that this was supposed to be a punishment, Harry couldn't help but wonder what sorts of potions were brewed in the gold and silver cauldrons. He nearly started to ask Snape, but then he shut his mouth, figuring the professor probably didn't want him talking during detention. Aunt Petunia never wanted to hear his mouth running while he did chores around the house.

Harry carefully selected one of each kind of cauldron, before Malfoy could take all the smaller ones and leave Harry with the bigger messier ones.

"Hey!" Draco objected. "What's the big idea, Potter?"

"What? I divided them up evenly, Malfoy." Harry said, leaning over and beginning to scrub out a pewter cauldron first.

Snape looked up from his desk. "More scrubbing and less complaining. And mind you don't scrub too harshly on the gold and silver cauldrons. If they're scratched, they're useless. You will also need to polish them."

"Polish them?" Malfoy goggled.

"'Till they're so bright you can see your face in them!" squawked Skull from his perch on Severus' shoulder. The raven had a devilish gleam in his eyes.

"Who asked you, bird?"

Skull hissed at him. "Only a fool refuses free advice. Stupid boy!"

"Who are you calling stupid, birdbrain?" Malfoy demanded.

"Mr. Malfoy, ignore the raven and keep cleaning. Unless you wish to be here till tomorrow evening." Snape threatened silkily. Then he frowned at his familiar. "Skullduggery, quit tormenting the students."

Skull fluffed his feathers. "Killjoy," he muttered, then went and nibbled upon Snape's extra quills.

Harry smothered a giggle at the insolent bird's antics. He had finished one cauldron already and had now begun on the largest iron one. He carefully poured a mixture of hot water and soap in to it and let it soak while he turned to wash out the silver one.

That one took less time and then he said quietly, "Professor? Where's the silver polish?"

"Beneath the sink, to the left of the sponges." Snape replied without glancing up.

Harry made his way to the sink, located the polish, and was coming back to his spot when Malfoy stuck out a foot and almost tripped him. Harry avoided the trap however, that trick had been pulled on him numerous times by Dudley. "Knock it off, Malfoy. Unless you want more detention," he hissed angrily.

"Kiss arse." Draco spat under his breath.

Harry began polishing the cauldron, trying his best to ignore Malfoy's taunts.

They were about halfway through their detention when a knock sounded. Snape looked up from his grading irritably. "Yes? What is it now?"

"Sorry to disturb you, Severus, but Dumbeldore wanted me to ask you to referee the next Quidditch game," Madam Hooch said. "I can't do it, I'll be on holiday."

Snape sighed. He detested Quidditch, though he knew the rules of the game inside and out. "Very well, Rolanda. Tell him I shall do so. After all, I have nothing else to do with my time than waste it refereeing that bloody game, never mind the potions I need to brew or the tests I have to grade," he muttered under his breath.

While Severus was distracted, Skull decided it was too dull and decided to liven things up by singing.

"Bad boys, bad boys

Whatcha gonna do?

"Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?"

Harry started laughing uncontrollably. He wondered where the raven had learned that song? It was a theme song from an old show called Cops that Dudley used to watch on the telly. Really, Skull was a marvel.

"What's so funny, Potter?" growled Draco, furious that Harry seemed to be almost done with his cauldrons. "I'll tell you what you're gonna do when they come for you . . .you'll faint and wet yourself."

"You wish, Malfoy," Harry scowled. He deliberately turned his back on the other boy, refusing to be baited. He already had nearly a week's worth of detention, he would be damned if he'd add to it. He started to clean the small gold cauldron next. He was grateful for the gloves, as they kept his hands from growing red and chapped as well as protecting them from any acidic substances. Petunia had never allowed him gloves when he scrubbed her house.

Skull suddenly alighted on Draco's cauldron. "Naughty, naughty. What would Mother say?" the raven croaked, imitating an elderly nanny.

Draco was not amused. He detested cleaning anything, and would have preferred preparing potions ingredients to this menial labor. He flicked soapsuds at the familiar. "Go bugger yourself, Skull," he growled.

The raven, in full mischievous mode, tisked at him. "Language, young man!" he said in Snape's voice. "Or would you like to taste soap along with that sandwich?"

Harry turned about quickly to see who had said that, and smirked when he saw Skull lecturing Malfoy. The bird was very entertaining, no wonder the twins adored him.

"Stuff it, bird!" Malfoy snapped. Under other circumstances, such as Skull teasing Potter, he might well have laughed at the raven's perfect mimicry and wit. Now, however . . .Then he caught Potter smirking at him, the insufferable little twit. "What are you smiling at, Potter? Think it's funny, do you?" He glared at the raven. "Skull, go and torment Potter, why don't you?"

The raven cocked his head, then cawed, "No." Then he began to tap out the notes to the song he'd sung earlier with his beak on Draco's cauldron.

Harry turned away, his shoulders shaking silently.

Furious, Draco picked up a smaller scrub brush, one used to apply polish to the expensive cauldrons, and flung it in a fit of temper. He had been aiming at the smug Harry, but the brush's handle struck the bobbing raven instead, knocking the bird off the cauldron.

Skullduggery screeched loudly in shock and pain.

Draco froze in horror.

Snape whirled around upon hearing his familiar's cry of distress and saw the raven lying next to Malfoy's cauldron and the brush falling down to smack into the stone floor with a thump. It took a millisecond to see who was guilty. "Malfoy!" he spat. "You dare to harm my familiar?" Fury bubbling in his eyes, he stalked over to the cringing boy and grabbed him expertly by the ear.

Draco yelped, for Snape's fingers pinched his ear like a raptor's claws. "Oww! Sir, I didn't mean to! I was aiming at Potter. Sir, please, I'm sorry!"

"You're going to be a hell of a lot more sorry when I get through with you. Go and stand in the corner behind my desk. Now!"

Draco nodded frantically. Snape released his ear, kneeling and gently picking up the dazed raven. "There now, Skull. Are you hurt?"

The raven allowed Severus to examine him, making sure his wings were not broken and gently feeling him over. "Stupid boy!" Skull cawed. "Naughty brat!"

Snape nodded grimly. The raven seemed unharmed. "How do you feel?"

"Sheepish," Skull answered. "Ba-aa-aa!" His imitation of a sheep was dead on.

Severus gave a sigh of relief. "If you can imitate a sheep, you're fine."

Skull nodded once. "Told you so, Sev." He stood up and then fluttered over and perched upon Harry's shoulder.

"Hello, Skull."

Skull cawed. "Have you ever heard the one about the shepherdess and the priest?"

"Uh, no."

"Skullduggery, don't you dare repeat that!" Severus interjected. "Bloody damn Abe and his off-color jokes."

"How about a man walked into a bar with a chameleon?" Skull began.

"Skullduggery! I'm warning you. No treats for a week if you repeat any joke that Abe or Albus told you, am I clear?"

The sly raven cawed an affirmative.

"Potter, how many cauldrons do you have left to scrub?"

"Two, Professor."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You work fast, boy. Finish up and then go and wait in my office. I have something important to discuss with you."

"Yes, sir." Harry said, and turned back to his cauldrons. He was both curious and anxious about the coming discussion. He didn't bother to reveal that he was a champion scrubber because the Dursleys never lifted a finger to wash up anything and he had to do it all.

Snape stalked up to the front of the room and said icily, "Malfoy, my office."

Draco headed into the office, wondering how much trouble he was now in for hurting Snape's familiar. Damn Potter! He wished the other boy would drown in his own cauldron.

Severus counted to ten slowly four times before following his disobedient Slytherin into the office. When he was certain he wouldn't throttle the boy, he allowed himself to confront Draco. "You amaze me, Mr. Malfoy. It's only been an hour since I last lectured you and still you flout my authority and worse, you hurt my familiar!"

"It was an accident, Professor! I didn't mean to hit Skull. I wanted to hit Potter for making fun of me."

"Oh, and that makes it all right?" Snape demanded. "Didn't I just finish telling you I will not tolerate bullies in my House? It seems as though you have a problem obeying me, Malfoy. Do you know that were this the previous century, I could call you out in a duel for injuring my familiar, especially a raven familiar? You are not some Muggleborn fresh from London, you have been raised with wizarding etiquette and tradition, and you know the proper way to behave. Or so I thought. I must have been mistaken. You've behaved no better than a two-year-old in a temper. You will now go back in the lab and scrub ten more cauldrons. Obviously you didn't have enough work to keep you out of trouble. Furthermore, since you seem to regard my dictates as something to be obeyed only when you feel like it, I shall inform Narcissa about your transgressions."

"No! Don't!"

"Stop telling me what to do, Malfoy! One way or another, you are going to learn the value of obedience and if I cannot get through to you, perhaps your mother shall."

"No. Don't tell her." Draco pleaded, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"Go back and finish your cauldrons, boy. And send Potter in here." Snape was unmoved. The boy had gone too far, had crossed the line one too many times.

Draco slunk from the room like a whipped cur. He couldn't believe that Snape was actually going to tell his mother! Narcissa would be most displeased. He was sure he would get a Howler before the afternoon tomorrow.

Severus rubbed the back of his hand across his head, where the beginnings of a tension headache were starting. Normally he did not involve parents in his disciplinary actions. Usually his detentions and lectures were enough to make even the most rebellious student toe the mark, especially if they were snakes. He felt that parents should not get involved unless it was deadly serious. But he knew that Draco would lose all respect for him if he went back upon his word. Much as he disliked it, he would be writing a letter to Narcissa that night.

But first he had to discuss his decision to become Potter's legal guardian. And truth be told, he dreaded that more than he did the conversation with Narcissa. He drew in a deep breath.

Harry entered the office a moment later, his sleeves still rolled up, exposing his thin spindly arms and smelling faintly of soap and water and occasionally grease as well. His dark hair was sticking up all over, and it was plain he was dying to know why Snape had summoned him, but he held his tongue. Skull was sitting on his shoulder, preening.

Severus gestured him to a seat, then he sealed the office with an Impenetrable Charm, so no one could hear what was spoken.

"Am I in trouble?" Harry asked, wanting to know right away so he could prepare himself.

"In trouble? For what?"

Harry shrugged and looked down at the floor. At the Dursleys, he was always the one in trouble, whether or not he had actually done something. He prayed that was not the case here. He had begun to trust Snape, but old habits died hard. "I dunno, sir."

"Tell me when you figure out what you are supposed to have done," said Snape dryly. Then he cleared his throat. "I have called you here to . . .put forth a proposition, Harry. After seeing the results of Madam Pomfrey's scans, I have strong objections to you returning to your relatives' house for break or the summer. It is obvious to me that you are unwanted and they regard you as a burden."

"I . . .I try not to be, sir." Harry said, feeling unaccountably guilty. "I try and do what they want, but somehow, no matter what I do, it's never enough."

"What do they require of you?"

Harry told him about the chores, saying that Uncle Vernon had told him they weren't running a charity home and he had to earn his keep.

Severus was so furious he almost exploded. "Earn your keep? You do more chores than any other eleven-year-old I know of. You have no reason to feel guilty. You cannot please them because they are the kind of people who revel in misery and are never satisfied. Nothing you have done or could do would ever be enough. So don't waste a minute worrying about what those people think."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. Snape's words made him feel something he rarely felt—pleased with himself. He could tell the professor truly meant what he said, and he knew that Severus was a firm believer in hard work, and if Snape said the Dursleys were impossible to please than surely it was so.

"Now then, I have spoken to the Headmaster about their unsuitability to take care of you. Putting a child in a cupboard and turning him into a slave is unacceptable by any standards, wizard or Muggle. I never would have placed you with them to start with. Your aunt was always bitter and jealous of anyone different from her, and she cut all ties to your mother when she married. She wanted nothing to do with the magical world or her sister who lived in it."

"But . . .if you knew that, then why was I left there?" Harry asked angrily.

"I had no say in where you were taken. The Headmaster felt you would be safe and hidden away best by your blood relatives," Severus said honestly. "He did not ask me or Minerva what we thought. He did not know about Petunia's dislike of wizards. He assumed you would grow up in a good home and want for nothing. He has since come to the conclusion that he was very mistaken."

"Then what happens to me now? Can I stay here at the school?"

Severus shook his head. "While that has been done in the past, Dumbledore believes the school is not as safe as it should be for you. There are rumors . . .rumors that You-Know-Who may still be alive . . .or rather, his spirit is still living."

Harry's eyes widened. "He rose from the dead?"

"In a manner of speaking. But we have no real proof. However, his followers believe it and they would not hesitate to hurt you, even kill you, if they could. You know that I am pledged to protect you. Therefore, I . . .would like to become your legal guardian, so that you can stay with me."

There! It was said.

Harry stared at him, trying his best not to gape witlessly. "You mean . . .you want to . . .you want me to live with you?"

"Yes. That is what I'm offering. While I'm at school, you would, of course stay in your dorm, or you could have a room in my quarters if you wish. During holidays, you would live at my home, which may not be as large as Petunia's, but I assure you I have no cupboards for you to sleep in, nor will I treat you like a slave. There will be chores to do and rules to follow, but I promise you will be treated like a member of my family. Most of all, no follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will be able to find you, since my residence is hidden by powerful wards. The only one who shares my home with me is Skull, and you seem to get along fine with him."

"I like him, Sev. He's funny and smart."

"He's a rascal of the first order," snorted his master.

Skull flew to Severus' shoulder and rubbed his head along the Potion Master's cheek. "Keep the bran-boy, Sev."

Harry looked totally confused. "Bran-boy? I don't get it. Why is he calling me cereal?"

Snape shook his head, chuckling. "No, Harry. Bran is the Welsh word for raven. Skull seems to have taken quite a liking to you if he's calling you "raven-boy". It means he considers you a fledgling, and he has never done that for any student I've known before."

"Really? But why?"

"Ask him."

Harry looked at the raven. "Why did you call me that, Skull?"

The raven fluffed his feathers. "It is what you are. You have the old magic, bran-boy. Rr-awk!"

"Old magic? I don't understand."

"The ravens are keepers of the old magic. He seems to think you have some of that within you. That you've been marked by it, or can use it somehow." Severus frowned. "Right, Skull?"

Skull nodded emphatically. Then he took off and flew out of the office.

"Hey! Where's he going?" Harry cried.

"Hungry!" Skullduggery answered.

"He tells me that and then he takes off because he's hungry?" Harry groused.

"That's a raven for you," Severus said. "They do as they please and reveal secrets in their own time, if at all." He gazed at Harry warily. "Well? Will you take up my offer?"

Harry worried his lip. He didn't want to refuse Severus outright. He knew that the man only wanted what was best for him. But he was afraid to accept Severus' offer right away. The professor was used to living alone, he valued his privacy. Harry feared he might cause Severus to regret taking him over the break. He recalled only too well how Petunia would complain endlessly about how much money he cost them and how much trouble it was to raise a freakish child. He did not want to agree to live with Snape, only to find that the professor found him an annoyance and a burden. But neither did he want to return to the Dursleys. He used to believe that he deserved their scorn and coldness, but now he wasn't so sure. But did he dare trust Snape to keep his word? What if he moved in and they couldn't stand each other? He wasn't Severus' son or relation, why would Snape care about him if his own blood didn't? Could Severus love him? There were times that Harry felt he could, and then again, he could see how awkward the other was, and he didn't want to force Severus into a role he didn't want.

"I . . .would you mind if . . .I thought about it? It's not that I'm not grateful, but . . .I just want to make sure it's a good thing . . ." he began, feeling very awkward. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize," Severus said, though he felt the sting of rejection nevertheless. He should have known. He was not the sort of man a child trusted to look after him. "I would expect you to think about it."

"Thank you, sir!" Harry said, relieved. "You aren't . . .mad, are you?"

"No. This is a big step for you. You need to be sure of yourself. Take some time and think about it. But you should decide before the holiday break. All right?"

"Yes, Sev."

"If you have any questions, you may ask me. I know I have a reputation as a strict bastard, but I will never be cruel to you, never take advantage of you the way your relatives did."

Harry wanted so much to believe that were true. But he was afraid. He didn't want Severus to be his guardian out of duty. He wanted something more, something that most kids didn't even need to think about. He wanted Snape to love him. If that were possible. "I know that," he made himself say. Then he gave the professor a rueful smile. "I never thought you would."

Severus looked relieved. "Good. Think about my offer. You must be tired, so I would suggest you go to bed. It's almost curfew."

Harry knew better than to assume it was a suggestion. He knew perfectly well Snape's suggestions were orders, couched in polite phrases. "Okay, Sev. Good night."

"Be here tomorrow night at seven." Severus reminded him.

"I will." Harry promised. Then he hesitantly reached out and hugged the black clad figure. He hoped he hadn't hurt Snape's feelings by not accepting his offer right off. So to soften the blow and show the professor that he still cared about him, Harry gave him a hug. It was not a particularly long hug, but Harry did rest his head against Snape's chest and feel his heart beating. He found it soothing and comforting. And Severus' arms held him close, making him feel safe and protected.

He allowed himself to be held for a moment or two longer before withdrawing. "See you tomorrow, Sev."

"Sleep well, Harry. And remember to take your Nutrient Suppliment tomorrow morning," Severus reminded. "It will be by your plate at breakfast."

"Okay." Then Harry left, covering a yawn.

Severus watched him leave, wondering why the boy's decision made him feel oddly bereft. He hadn't expected the child to agree so quickly. So why did Harry's choice leave him with a bitter taste in his mouth? Did you really expect the boy to jump into your arms? The snarky dungeon bat is hardly the ideal guardian a child dreams about. He had spent years cultivating that image, he could hardly blame Harry for being wary. Still, he could not help feeling hurt. Lily had told him to love her son. He had promised he would try. But what if Harry didn't want his love?

The Potions Master sighed. Now he would have to go back to Albus and tell him Harry wished to think about the guardianship. Which meant Dumbledore could delay the Dursleys punishment if he chose. The document Severus had obtained earlier would now sit in a drawer, awaiting the decision of one small boy. Why was everything in his life so complicated?

Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, troubled and heartsick. A part of him longed to turn around and return to the dungeons, knock on Severus' door and tell the professor that he had changed his mind and wanted to accept the offer of guardianship. But another part, the wary, worried, distrustful cynical part, warned him that if he did that, he might ruin the relationship he already had with the potions professor. Harry didn't want things to deteriorate back to what they had been before the troll attack, and he was afraid that if Snape had to live with him all the time, he might resent Harry for being in the way, like the Dursleys always had. Please, Sev. Please understand. I know you said you weren't mad, but how could you not be? I'm kind of mad at myself, because I'm so damn scared to take a chance on you. But I can't help it. I want to but . . .

When he entered the common room, he found Percy assisting a second year with her Charms homework, Fred and George muttering over a chessboard, and Ron studying something for once. Hermione was busy taking some more donations and putting them in a box.

Harry was tired from detention and didn't want to be caught coming in by anyone, prefect or friends alike. Of course, it was just his luck that Ron would looking up when Harry entered the portrait hole.

"Hey, Harry. How was detention with Tall, Dark, and Beaky?"

"Okay. I scrubbed lots of cauldrons."

"That's Snape's standard detention. He loves making you scrub your fingers to the bone," Ron said.

"Tell me about it." Harry chuckled.

"How about Malfoy? Did he polish his nails while you scrubbed, huh?" sneered the redhead.

"No. He got in big trouble with the professor for almost killing his raven."

Everyone in the common room froze. Then all of them began to babble at once.

"Killed Snape's familiar . . .?"

"But why would he do something so stupid?"

"Poor Skull!"

"Malfoy needs to be taken down a peg."

"Wicked brat!"

"So . . .what sort of punishment did Malfoy get?" asked Ron.

Harry grinned. "The best kind. Snape's going to tell his mum."

"Ooo!" cheered some.

"Malfoy's gonna get the Howler of the century!" hooted Fred and George.

"Serves the little brat right."

"I think he ought to be beaten." Sniffed a blond third year girl. "Cruelty to a familiar is a crime."

"Hear! Hear!" Percy agreed.

"Malfoy is asking to get pranked—" George began.

"—big time. Because nobody messes with our feathered brother Skull!" Fred finished.

Several people cheered at that. The twins' revenge pranks were legendary.

Harry was surprised that the Gryffindors could feel so much compassion for the Slytherin Head's familiar. But then again, the rascally raven seemed to cross House boundaries with impunity, and won the hearts of almost all he came into contact with. Harry approached Hermione, and asked how she was doing with the donations.

"Very well, I think. I haven't counted it all yet, but I have something from almost everyone," the witch reported, smiling.

"You'll have my donation by the weekend." Harry promised. "I just have to make a withdrawal from Gringotts." He hoped Snape would recall that he had promised Harry a trip to Diagon Alley. Harry didn't want to harp on the promise, because Severus usually got annoyed over that sort of thing.

"That's good, Harry. Hopefully, this will be enough for Madam Pince to make a start on either replacing the books or the shelves." Hermione said. "I heard that not all the library was damaged. That the Restricted Section was still standing, because it had the strongest charms on it and was in the opposite direction of the troll when it entered the library."

"Really? Whew! I didn't know that," Harry said. At least the most dangerous books were still safe.

He debated upon whether or not to tell his new friends about Severus' offer. In the end, he decided to keep mum about it awhile longer. He still felt uncomfortable discussing his home life and in order to mention the offer he would have to explain about how the Dursleys hated him and all. Very awkward and embarrassing. Not to mention that Harry wished to forget they ever existed while he was at school. They were part of the ordinary humdrum world and this was part of the wondrous magical world that he had always been denied and he had no wish to mingle them. Bad enough that Snape, Dumbledore, and Poppy knew.

"Well, I'm off to bed," Harry said, smothering a yawn. "G'night."

"Good night, Harry." Hermione said.

"Wait!" Ron called. "You never said if Skull was okay."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "You care? Thought you didn't like him."

Ron shrugged. "He's a pain in the arse. But then, so are my brothers and I still like them. Is he?"

"Yeah. The professor made sure Skull was all right. Then he ripped Malfoy a new one."

"Good. He needs it." No love was lost between Ron and Draco, since Draco continually twitted Ron about being poor and broke.

Harry yawned again, then headed upstairs to bed. He needed to be rested for class tomorrow and then the detention in the library tomorrow night.

The next evening:

Irma Pince had been the unquestioned Head Librarian of Hogwarts ever since she was twenty five years old and the old Head, Persephone Dewey, had retired. She had seen countless students come and go, and some professors as well, but her one constant was her books. Whatever upheaval was going on in the world outside the library, from World War II to Voldemort, she could always count on her library to provide her with both information and a sanctuary. To Irma, there was no more beautiful thing than a book newly printed and bound, and no more beautiful scents than parchment, ink, and leather. After being cruelly rejected as a young witch and her heart broken by a careless Gryffindor suitor, Irma had sought solace in her beloved books, and came to the realization that books were more faithful and better companions than people. She never forgave or forgot her experience with so-called young love, and chased away any other would-be suitors with her sharp tongue and stiff manner. Books were safer. They had no ego to bruise and no book ever looked at her and compared her to a stork. Books were never arrogant or fickle, they remained the same and provided her with the same level of entertainment as they had the first time she read them.

Thus, the loss of so many precious volumes was totally disheartening and depressing for her. Even the offer of several of the professors to replace some volumes from their own personal collection couldn't alleviate the feeling of loss. She felt as if her children had died. Or her home had been vandalized. In a way both those things had occurred, and she was not handling it well at all. She snapped at her colleagues or otherwise remained mute and brooding at the staff table. She was usually busy cataloguing or dusting or ordering new books from the current Library Digest. Now she found it difficult to clean up the debris, and had taken to swallowing a pain potion just to get through the rest of the day.

She started to wonder if she ought to contact her niece, Lena Rosario, her sister Eden's daughter, who had been taking courses on how to become a librarian at a magical school. Lena was a former Ravenclaw, and also a skilled mind mistress, her father was an Oxford professor who had educated his daughter about everything and anything. But Lena knew the inner workings of the library better than most apprentices. She knew spells for preserving and mending books, protecting them with charms and hiding them from overeager children. She had a photographic memory for books and place names and she enjoyed her aunt's company.

Irma nibbled on a fingernail and contemplated calling upon her next of kin for help. Lena would come, she loved books as much as Irma did. She had learned to read at three and had never stopped. And with a knowledgeable apprentice around, she could relax a bit and delegate some of the tougher jobs to her apprentice.

Yes, maybe she'd call Lena, since she felt so drawn and tired.

She pulled out a precious piece of parchment and began to write.

By the time she had posted the letter in the mail it was nearly time for Severus to bring his wretched brats there for detention.

It was then that the boxes of books and purses of money began arriving.

Irma just stopped and stared at the parliament of owls arriving and descending to deliver the packages. For one moment she could not comprehend the deluge of mail, and then she received a letter from the Headmaster informing her that all of these packages were donations for the library from students. Every single one, and more would be arriving daily.

She put a hand to her mouth, overwhelmed. Apparently, she was not the only one who enjoyed the sanctuary of the library. Overcome, she looked at all of the donations and wept.

But only for a few moments. Then the administrator in her took over and she began to use her wand to collect and count the money, transferring it to a special lock box where it would be deposited into her account, so she could use the funds to purchase more books and other necessities. Then she carefully placed the boxes of books in a cleared section behind her desk, where she could examine them and spell tag them.

Severus arrived soon after this and asked if she had received his donation of books yet.

"I, yes, I believe so." Irma said, her eyes still wide in astonishment. "Thank you. I . . .am amazed that so many students have sent money and books, that they care about the library . . ."

"Did I not tell you, Irma, that you weren't the only one in the castle who worships the written word?" Severus asked gently. "Perhaps next time you'll believe me." He gestured to his two students. "Potter and Malfoy here are at your disposal for the evening. Tell them where you would like them to begin cleaning."

Pince quickly regained her composure and cleared her throat. Misbehaving students she could handle. "Right." She handed each of them a feather duster and broom and shovel. "Go to the far right hand corner of the library, you'll find plenty of dust and dirt to keep you occupied."

"Yes, Madam Pince," the two muttered respectfully, then they departed.

Snape watched them go, frowning. Then he spoke to his familiar. "Skull, keep an eye on them."

The raven on his shoulder ruffled his glossy black feathers and sprang aloft, cawing, "At once, my captain!" Then he circled over the books and flew off.

"Severus, is that bird housebroken?" Irma asked.

"Of course. Skull would never harm a book. Ravens know the value of knowledge," replied Snape, a bit peeved. But then he said, "Would you like some assistance cataloguing those recent acquisitions?"

"Please." The librarian said happily. She knew that Severus was efficient and familiar with the system, having once worked over the summer as a sixth year as her assistant.

The two began removing books from the boxes.

Meanwhile, Harry had reached the corner and had begun sweeping the mounds of dust and wood chips into the dustpan. He recalled that this was the place Snape had battled the troll, and suppressed a shiver. The familiar table and chair where he used to study had been smashed to pieces, some of what he was sweeping now were the remnants of that. He had taken off his robes, placing them carefully atop a bookshelf after he'd dusted it off, since you couldn't sweep well in them.

Dust swirled thickly through the air making him sneeze. A few feet away, Malfoy was coughing and rubbing his eyes. Harry gamely swiped at the dust cloud and found that most of the dust clung to the feather duster. He then tucked the duster in his jeans and continued sweeping. While he cleaned, he thought about whether or not to accept Severus' offer. He also thought about Christmas, and how, for the first time ever, he had friends to buy presents for. He wondered what Ron and Hermione would like. He even thought about buying a gift for Severus and Skull.

Suddenly he heard the brief flap of wings as Skullduggery alighted upon a shelf. The raven gave him a brief nod and settled down to observe.

Malfoy scowled at the bird but refrained from saying anything. He hated all the bloody chores he had to do, but most of all he hated the dark-haired boy working a few feet from him. Potter had humiliated him and made him get in trouble with not only his fellow Slytherins and Snape, but also his mother. He had not gotten a letter or a Howler from her, and thought that maybe Snape hadn't sent the report to her as he'd promised. But a part of him doubted it. Snape never threatened, he promised.

If Narcissa had received the letter, would she tell Lucius about it? Draco winced. Lucius ' number one rule was never get caught misbehaving in public. In private you could do anything you could get away with. But perhaps Narcissa would keep this to herself, since Lucius was away. He wished he had his wand back, there were dozens of petty annoying humiliating jinxes he could cast that would make Potter sorry.

But right then the most he could do was throw shovelfuls of dust on Potter's half of the floor, making his task that much dirtier and longer. And the oblivious Gryffindor didn't notice anything. Draco smirked slyly.

Until Skullduggery shrieked, "Sabotage!" and flew from his perch, circling above Malfoy's head.

"Get off, bird!" squeaked the blond boy, and went to cover his head, for Skull's beak was very sharp and he'd been known to nip a student's ear.

Harry turned around to see what had set the raven off and saw mounds of dust all over the floor he'd just spent the past half hour cleaning. "Malfoy, you prat!"

Before Draco could say anything else, Skullduggery cackled and cried, "Bombs away!"

SPLAT!

"Ugh!" Malfoy yelled, then began pawing frantically at his head, which now had a disgusting mess of bird poop all over it.

"Hoo! New fashion trend, aye?" the raven sniggered. "Serves you right." Then he flew in spirals above the pair.

Harry started to chuckle in spite of himself, though he normally wouldn't have laughed at another's misfortune like that. But the raven's quirky sense of justice was too funny.

"Shut up, Potter! Just shut up!" Draco howled, tearing off his robes and scrubbing frantically at his head.

"Scrub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub, and what have you done to your hair?" the raven mocked.

Draco shook a fist at the black bird, muttering swear words under his breath. Bloody raven! He wished it would drop dead.

Harry turned back to his part of the floor, and began cleaning again. He thought about chucking the dust back on Malfoy's side but didn't want to have a dust war and risk getting in even more trouble. Plus, he wanted to help fix the library, not make it worse. So he swept and dusted as quickly as he could, and by the time three hours had gone by, had cleared almost the whole corner of the library.

A sulky Malfoy had managed less than half of that.

Harry was dusting the bookshelf when Snape came to see what progess had been made. "Not bad," was all he said. "Give your cleaning supplies back to Madam Pince, you're done for tonight. Tomorrow is your final detention, I expect you to be at my office promptly. Mr. Potter, you are dismissed."

Harry turned and looked at his teacher. "Yes, sir. Professor Snape, may I ask—"

"Ask me tomorrow, Potter." Severus said impatiently. "Unless it's an emergency?"

"No, sir. It can wait." Harry said, he had been intending to remind Snape about the visit to Diagon Alley. But it could wait till tomorrow. Tomorrow was Thursday. "Good night, Professor." He grabbed his robes from the top of the shelf and started walking up the stacks.

"Night, Harry! Sleep tight, don't let the boggarts bite!" Skull called after him.

Harry blushed and Malfoy smothered a laugh. Until Draco looked up at his professor, who was frowning. "My office, Malfoy. Now."

"But-but sir . . .I didn't do anything . . ."

Snape did not reply, merely started walking.

Draco followed, puzzled and angry. He dropped his supplies off at Pince's desk, apprehension curdling in his stomach. Surely Snape couldn't know about the dust he'd thrown on the floor?

Severus opened the office door and gestured Draco inside.

Draco walked in . . .and saw Narcissa standing there. She did not look happy at all. "Mother!" he smiled weakly.

"Draco." She did not smile back. His name fairly dripped disapproval.

"Somebody's in trouble!" Skull hissed from Snape's shoulder.

"Hush, Skullduggery!" ordered Severus.

"Professor Snape, if you will excuse us? I need to have a talk with my son." Narcissa said coolly.

Severus nodded and closed the door of the office behind him.

"Mother, I can explain . . ."began Draco.

"Can you?" her tone was like ice, and so was her face. She reminded him of a queen passing judgment upon a traitor. "What explanation can you give me, Draco Lucius Malfoy, for disrespecting your Head of House, and casting forbidden curses upon a fellow student? For nearly harming Professor Snape's familiar in a fit of petty jealousy?"

"It was Potter's fault, Mother!"

"Oh, really? You were the one holding the wand, young man. The curse came out of your mouth. I had thought you told me you didn't wish to be like your father, and use dark magic, Draco. Have you suddenly changed your mind? Do you wish to follow in his footsteps after all?" She had dragged Snape's chair out from behind his desk and was sitting in it.

Draco shook his head. "No!"

"Then why hex someone like that?"

"He was annoying me."

"That is no excuse. I am ashamed to see that you behave no better than an uneducated lout, breaking school rules and then being disrespectful to your professor. That is not how I taught you to behave. Professor Snape has given you plenty of chances to improve your attitude and you still behaved abominably. Just like a headstrong Gryffindor."

He hung his head. "I'm sorry, Mother."

She shook her head slowly. "I had thought you had learned to behave with restraint and decorum, as befits an heir to a great House. Your father would be furious to find out that you had disgraced the family by allowing a mere Muggle raised boy to get the better of you."

"Did you tell him?"

"No. Since Professor Snape wrote to me specifically about this matter, I chose to handle it myself."

"Oh." Draco felt his breath woosh out in relief.

Then she continued. "Do not think that means you'll be getting away with anything, young man. You say you don't wish to become a dark wizard, and yet that is where you're headed. Straight down the dark road." She did not say "like your father", but it was implied.

He paled. "No! I'm not like that! I'm not!"

"Are you sorry for what you've done?"

"Yes."

"Why? Because of me or because you know it was wrong?"

" I . . .both," he stared at the ground.

"Look me in the eye and say it."

He did and she saw, to her relief, that he did seem genuinely sorry. "I promised myself long ago that no child of mine would go dark. Your father believes otherwise. He believes the mistakes of the fathers continue to the next generation. Not me. You are not above the rules, Draco. Or the consequences. I warned you about behaving before you got on the train this year, didn't I?"

He swallowed hard. "Yes, Mother."

"Remember, you have no one to blame but yourself." She crooked a finger at him.

Severus was at his desk in the classroom, waiting for Narcissa to finish lecturing and punishing her son. She had contacted him early this morning and told him she would be coming down to deal with her son that evening. She had apologized to him and promised to impress upon Draco the error of his ways. From the sound of things inside the office, she was keeping her word, and doling out a firm smacking, something that Severus felt the spoiled eleven-year-old badly needed. Yelps and sniveling came from beyond the closed door, Severus could hear the whole thing despite the Privacy wards because he had set them.

He tried to concentrate upon the homework he had left to grade, but found it impossible. Deserved or not, it made him recall bad memories from his childhood, and after a moment he set his quill down and tried to meditate to keep the shadows at bay. Skull preened and groomed his wizard's hair, sensing the man's unease. The raven made an odd sort of sound, like a cross between a purr and a hum, which he knew soothed his wizard when Snape was agitated. For all his flippant attitude, the raven loved his bondmate and hated to see him hurt or upset.

Severus reached up and scratched behind the raven's head, murmuring, "Thank you, Skull." He had long ago quit marveling at how uncannily perceptive the raven was. Skullduggery was one of a kind.

Five minutes later, a chastened Draco emerged from the office, followed by Narcissa. "Severus, my son has something he wishes to say to you."

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape, for my horrible behavior. And for hurting your familiar. I'll try and behave from now on." His blue-gray eyes were wet with tears.

Snape withdrew a handkerchief and handed it to him. "I would certainly hope so, Draco. You're forgiven, just don't let it happen again. It's getting close to curfew. Say goodbye to your mother and get back to your dormitory."

Draco turned and hugged Narcissa, who kissed his forehead and murmured, "Be good, my little dragonling. Study hard and make me proud."

"I will, Mum." Her son promised, then he turned and headed out of the office. Only when he was out of sight did he pause to rub his stinging bottom. Narcissa was not brutal in her punishments like Lucius, but by Merlin she was thorough! He would be sleeping on his stomach tonight for sure. He headed back to the Slytherin portrait hole, vowing to never get on his mother's bad side again. He had just enough time to take a shower before going to bed.

Back in the office, Narcissa told Severus that Draco still needed to write an apology to Harry for nearly killing him. "Please make sure he does so, and if not, tell him I shall be back here again and make what I gave him tonight look like love taps." She shook her head. "Sometimes, Severus, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Lucius is so . . .influential, Draco looks up to him even when he knows his father is wrong. I'm not sure if I can counter Lucius' presence. But I don't want my son to go dark, Severus. I don't want him to become hard and cold, to serve an evil despot. That way lies madness and death."

He patted her shoulder lightly. "I think you're doing a fine job, Cissy. Between the two of us, we'll keep him on the straight and narrow. Tonight I had him serving detention in the library, helping to repair it."

"Draco wrote me that the library had been badly damaged when a troll rampaged through it. He told me you nearly died saving Harry Potter from it."

"Died? Hardly," scoffed Snape. "I ended up with a broken arm and a mild concussion. The library, however, fared poorly. Irma lost nearly half her books and furniture."

"That's terrible!" Narcissa said. "Might I make a contribution?" She reached into her purse. "Would five hundred Galleons be sufficient?"

Severus' eyebrows rose into his hair. "I would say so. That's very generous, Cissy."

She shrugged. "It's better to spend the Malfoy money on the library than on some dark purpose."

"Just make the donation anonymous," Snape told her. "Irma's pride is so touchy these days."

"Of course." Narcissa placed a bag upon the desk and then cast a Featherlight charm on it. "Will your raven deliver this?"

"Yes. Skullduggery, take this to Madam Pince." Severus told his familiar.

"Be back in a flash," said the raven, then he hopped down and took the large bag in his claws, then soared into the air with it.

"I have to be going. Have a good evening, Severus, and don't hesitate to contact me again if Draco keeps misbehaving."

"I would hope that he has learned his lesson. Good night, Narcissa."

He watched the witch step through the Floo and vanish into the green flames. Then he locked up his office and took his papers back with him to his quarters. He would finish marking them there.

"Mission accomplished, Sev," Skullduggery announced as he flew down upon the Potion Master's shoulder.

Severus turned his head and did something he rarely did. He smiled.

Then he whispered the password to his quarters and slipped inside. Hopefully, Draco would settle down now and he could concentrate upon protecting Harry more and helping Irma catalogue her books. Between that and classes and refereeing that bloody Quidditch match, it was going to be a busy November.

On Thursday, after his potions class, where they learned how to brew Pepperup potion, Harry discovered a letter inside his bookbag. When he opened it, he discovered it was, from all people, Draco Malfoy. The letter was an apology for cursing him during the duel on Monday, and while it was politely worded and all, Harry got an uneasy feeling that it was not very sincere. Malfoy had avoided him all day, however, pretending not to even see him, much to Harry's relief. He wondered if Snape had made Malfoy write the letter, or perhaps Malfoy's mum had? It sort of seemed the kind of thing a mother would make a child do, what Lily might have made him do, had she lived and he had done something like that. Well, whatever the reason, Harry hoped Malfoy would leave him be from now on. He had gone through primary school being the target of Dudley and his bullying friends, he didn't want the same to happen here at Hogwarts.

That night in the Great Hall, students whispered about a new face at the staff table. When Harry turned about to see what everyone was talking about, he saw a young woman , a little younger than Snape, sitting next to Madam Pince at the staff table. She was wearing a simple yet elegant long skirt of midnight blue and a starched white blouse and over robes of royal blue with an owl holding a scroll brooch on them. She was of medium height and had honey blond hair pulled back in a neat bun and glasses perched upon her pert nose. Eyes of a brilliant aquamarine peered out curiously from them and gazed about the hall. She was not exceptionally beautiful or cute, but she had an intense gaze that drew the eye.

Harry gazed at her and gave her a tentative smile, receiving one in return which made the woman's ordinary face look adorable. To his shock, she winked at him mischievously before taking a sip out of her goblet of pineapple juice. Harry flushed and turned away, asking Hermione, "Who's that new teacher up there?"

"That's not a new teacher, Harry. That's Madam Pince's new assistant, her niece," Hermione explained. She had heard McGonagall discussing the new arrival with Professor Sprout as she was leaving the greenhouse that afternoon.

"Yeah, her name's Lena Rosario, and she used to be a Ravenclaw," Percy added, eyeing the petite woman with a sigh of envy. "She's going to help Pince restore the library, or so I've heard."

There was a lot of murmuring appreciatively among the older Gryffindor boys, who hadn't seen a woman younger than fifty or older than eighteen come to Hogwarts in a long time.

"She looks sweet, eh, Percy?" teased George, elbowing Fred in the ribs and snickering.

Percy flushed. "Shut up, you git!"

"Ooo, got a bit of a crush, elder brother?" Fred sniggered.

"Of course not!" said Percy indignantly. "She's in her thirties! Twice my age!" But his ears were very red.

"Yeah, but you know what they say about older women," Oliver Wood smirked.

Percy glared at him and began eating his meatloaf and mashed potatoes at top speed.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry, are you all ready for the Quidditch match on Friday?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I think so. We're playing Ravenclaw, so it should be pretty good."

"Just watch them, Harry. They're clever and sneaky." Ron warned. "I've heard that Snape's referee for that game too."

"He is?" Harry's eyebrows went up.

"Yeah, so he'll probably try and make them look good."

"Ron, are you saying that Professor Snape would cheat?" Hermione objected.

Ron shrugged. "You always favor your own House, Hermione."

"But a referee is supposed to be impartial. I don't think Professor Snape would be allowed to be in that position if he were unfair."

"Hermione, what planet are you from?" Ron snorted. "Half the refs in professional Quidditch are crooked. I'll bet you two Knuts that Snape's no different."

Harry frowned. "I don't agree. If Snape says he'll referee impartially then he will." He knew better than anyone how Snape valued his promises.

Ron shrugged. "We'll see, won't we?" Then he turned back to eating his roast chicken.

Up at the staff table, Skullduggery was eying Lena from Severus' shoulder. The potions professor was seated on Lena's right, to her left was her aunt, who rarely ate dinner with the rest of the staff, she much preferred to hide away in her quarters rather than be forced to endure the clamor in the hall. But this once Irma made an exception, because Dumbledore had insisted she attend the welcome feast for Lena. She had made the introductions for the staff, and they had all welcomed the young librarian to Hogwarts. Irma figured they might as well start off on the right foot, since Lena was probably going to be here for the rest of the year, even if the library was restored by next term. Irma was subtly grooming the younger woman as her eventual replacement, though no one knew this save Albus. Not even Lena knew.

Lena Rosario was an unusually self-possessed young woman. She was used to being in the company of academics, having grown up with a father who was an Oxford don, and as a teenager had attended many a literature meeting with him, since her passion, like his, was the written word. Lena's mother, Morgana, was more interested in studying dusty old magic tomes than reading literature, and Lena was more than happy to attend the lectures and discussions with her father, Anthony. Anthony was always glad to have her there, she was more like him than her brother, Max, who used every excuse in the book to skive off and play sports, he detested reading and thought it was a dreadful bore. He was a top notch Chaser, had played for a time with the Chudley Cannons before semi-retiring to become a coach.

Lena had always suspected that her father had been relieved when his youngest displayed every sign of being a bookworm, because his son and he had almost nothing in common. Max was boisterous and opinionated, much like his Uncle Leo, his father's brother. Anthony was quiet and introspective and preferred a good book to any kind of sporting match. Anthony had once lamented that Max had trouble keeping still for any length of time as a boy, unless it was to watch Quidditch. Lena, however, even as a toddler, would remain transfixed upon his knee while he read aloud to her, and could never fall asleep unless she was read to before bedtime. It was almost a foregone conclusion that she would end up in Ravenclaw at her Sorting.

"Like mother, like daughter," was what her dad had said when she'd written home and told him what House she was in. "It's practically tradition in the Pince family, for the women to end up in Ravenclaw." He had always jokingly referred to Irma as the Queen of the Library, Guardian of the Stacks, and his wife was the Queen of the Fairies, Gloriana, which was both a play on her name and a reference to one of his favorite books, The Faerie Queen by Edmund Spenser.

Thinking of her parents made the young woman feel suddenly homesick for the crazy old Elizabethan-style manor house she had lived in her whole life, with all the additions and stairs that wound every which way, leading to balconies overlooking the gardens or garrets full of dusty old magical relics and books stashed in dustproof boxes. It was an architect's nightmare but a child's dream, a place of mystery where you could explore to your heart's content and still discover something new and exciting every day. Lena adored the ramshackle old house and always had.

Though she had been quite eager to help her aunt restore the library, she hadn't been back to Hogwarts in over ten years, and had forgotten how loud and noisy it could be, and she found the pressure of so many individual minds nudging at her shields quite disconcerting. Unknown to any save family, Lena had inherited the Pince affinity for mind magic, and was in fact, a very strong witch in the mind arts. She had devoted many years to learning both Occlumency and Legilimency as well as studying obscure branches of old magic with Morgana. Due to the many people in the hall, she had to concentrate more than normal to block them out, and as a result developed a headache. This in turn caused her to become very quiet.

Until Skulduggery fluttered down and landed in front of her plate, cocked his head, and said suavely, "Greetings, pretty lady. Read any good books lately?"

Lena giggled, delighted with the raven's wit.

Severus was aghast. There were times when his familiar displayed a very annoying tendency to ask impertinent questions, and try as he might, Severus had never been able to break him of the habit. "Skulduggery! Don't be such an impertinent wretch!" he scolded. Then he coughed and turned to the witch, saying apologetically, "Forgive me, Miss Rosario, my familiar can be very obnoxious—"

To his astonishment, Lena shook her head. "Oh no, Professor Snape, I find him quite charming. And very clever." Skullduggery preened proudly. Then she said a long liquid phrase in Welsh to the raven.

Snape blinked. "You speak Welsh?"

"No, just a few phrases here and there," Lena admitted, blushing slightly.

Skull turned to his wizard and said, "She called me Keeper of Knowledge, Severus. And that she was honored to meet me."

"He understands Welsh?" McGonagall asked. "I never knew that!"

"One never knows what Skullduggery picks up while staying at the Tower," Severus said dryly, impressed in spite of himself. "Some of it is good and some of it . . .well, let us say shouldn't be repeated in polite company."

Lena smiled shyly at the tall professor, whom she thought was rather handsome, despite his rather large nose and stern demeanor. He might have intimidated another woman, but Lena's instincts were telling her that he wasn't quite as fierce and cold as he seemed. A light probe told her he was a natural Occlumens, quite strong, which pleased her immensely, since then she wouldn't need to be on her guard so much around him. Ordinary wizards often proved to be unable to block her mental senses and she ended up reading their surface thoughts unintentionally if she happened to let down her shields even slightly. It was one reason she had remained single past the age of twenty-five, since it was decidedly unromantic to be picking up her date's less than flattering thoughts about her, such as she's not much to look at, but maybe she's good in the sack, or no wonder she's not found a husband yet, who'd want to marry a witch who knows more about books than anything else, and makes a man feel like a dolt? How much more awkward would it have been if her potential suitors, most of them suggested by her mother, knew she was also a disciple of the old ways and could hear surface thoughts? She knew quite well that most wizards would run off and count themselves lucky to have gotten away from the unnerving bookish half-blood. It was why she liked to spend so much time alone in the library, because the books didn't care what a misfit she was.

She wondered if Aunt Irma knew that the Potions Master was a strong Occlumens and that was why she had chosen him to be Lena's seatmate? Whatever the reason, she was glad Severus was next to her, he seemed like a fascinating and intelligent fellow. "I am rather hard to shock, Professor. You'd be surprised what topics come up for discussion at an Oxford staff luncheon, some of the professors there aren't as conservative as you might think." Then she blushed. I can't believe I just said that! "I mean . . .so you needn't be embarrassed if your familiar happens to mention some . . .err . . .awkward subjects. As I said before, I really like ravens."

Skull looked enormously pleased. "See, Severus? She likes me. She has good taste, you should invite her for tea and scones."

"Skullduggery!" hissed a mortified Severus.

Minerva laughed delightedly. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Severus! I am sure you and Lena have much in common. Did you know, Lena, that Severus is also a bibliophile? He practically lives in the library."

Severus longed to tell Minerva to mind her own business, but he didn't want to appear surly and unpleasant in front of the apprentice librarian. "That is true. Or at least it was before the troll destroyed half of it."

"Aunt Irma told me you dueled the troll and saved a student's life."

Severus nodded, clearly uncomfortable. "I . . .yes. I did what any adult would have done in a similar situation."

Lena arched an eyebrow. "Really? Most wizards I know would have Flooed the Aurors or Magical Creature Squad, not battled a troll to the death. You must be highly skilled at combat magic."

"I know how to defend myself," Snape said modestly.

"He's brilliant at Defense," piped up Skulduggery. "Almost as good as he is at potions."

Severus longed to strangle his familiar right then. He never liked to brag about his skills in either area, even if it were true. He didn't want to seem like a pompous ass. "He's exaggerating," he said to Lena, and then he shot a glare at the raven. "Trolls are strong but stupid, and once I brought down its magic resistance with a Weakening Hex, it was not that hard to defeat."

"Our Potions Master is too modest, my dear Lena," Albus chuckled. "He acted very heroically in defending Mr. Potter, and we are all very grateful he was around to do so."

Severus glanced away, wishing he could Obliviate his well-meaning but infuriating colleagues.

Sensing his embarrassment, Lena sought to turn the topic to something else the professor might be willing to discuss. "Where did you get your raven, Professor Snape?"

For some reason he found her formality a tad irritating, especially because she was only two years his junior. "You may call me Severus, Miss Rosario."

"If you will call me Lena . . .Severus."

"As you wish, Lena." He agreed, feeling on much more even footing than before. "Skulduggery, or Skull for short, actually adopted me. He was born in the Tower of London, one of the greater ravens that live there. I was on my way back from Diagon Alley one day from purchasing some potions ingredients when I paused to look up at the Tower. For some reason I decided to visit and while I was there, he flew down on my shoulder and refused to leave. The Ravenmaster, who happens to be one of us, told me that I had been chosen by Skulduggery , that he was now my familiar. He has been with me for . . ." he paused and did some quick arithmetic in his head. " . . .eight years now."

"He seems like a wonderful familiar."

"That's me, Mr. Wonderful!" Skull crowed.

Everyone chuckled. Snape rolled his eyes. "Merlin, help you, bird. If you get any more full of hot air, you're libel to explode like the Hindenburg."

Lena started laughing at the reference, unlike most wizards at the table, she understood it. Skull did also and fluffed his feathers up in a huff, acting insulted. "You calling me a blimp, Snape?"

"I'm calling you a puffed up windbag, and if you don't watch it you're going to end up in a cauldron one night."

"Only if you're desperate for money and need to make the Ultra Special Potion of Skull Everlasting. It'll make you immortal, because even death hides from Skullduggery." The raven croaked.

"You see what I have to put up with?"

"I like him. I think he's sweet," Lena said, and reached out to scratch the raven's head.

"Keep this one, Sev. She knows where it's at."

"Someday I need to acquire a familiar," Lena said to both her aunt and Severus. "A library needs a cat or a bird to make it feel like home. I feel incomplete without one."

"I can send you Skull if you'd like," Severus offered, scowling. "Before he ends up plucked and stuffed."

The raven promptly stuck his tongue out at the Potions Master.

Before Snape could scold him further or threaten to turn him into potion ingredients, the impudent bird flew over to McGonagall and sang sweetly in her ear, "What's new pussycat? Woah, woah, woah."

Minerva went red, and half the staff burst out laughing.

The wickedly witty raven continued singing, sounding just like Tom Jones. He knew the whole song, having heard it coming from a radio while he spent time at the Tower of London. Skull knew quite well that McGonagall's Animagus form was a cat and was having a grand old time warbling the old tune.

"Skull, now really!" she sputtered. "Severus, do control your bird, for the love of Merlin!"

Snape's eyes sparkled with amusement. "How do you suggest I do that, Minerva? Hex his beak shut?" He would never admit it, but he had often longed to play that song for the Gryffindor Head, because it was quite funny and he enjoyed making the conservative witch squirm, especially after she had embarrassed him tonight with her pseudo-matchmaking. Tit for tat, kitty cat, he thought with a smirk.

Half the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were in stitches, even though they didn't recognize the song in the slightest, they loved how Skull could mock their teachers with impunity.

"Drat you, bird!" McGonagall waved a napkin at the raven, who ducked and flapped away to land upon the Gryffindor table, where several students applauded him. He bowed, wings spread, and then helped himself to some roast chicken off of Harry's plate.

Harry sniggered and said, "Better be careful, Skull. McGonagall might hunt you down and make a pie out of you."

"Nah. I taste terrible," the raven trilled.

Fred and George cheered, then whispered that their feathered brother was going to just love the prank they had played upon Malfoy.

Harry looked up, alarmed. "What did you do?"

George smirked at him. "You'll see. Keep watching the Slytherin table. It should begin in about . . .oh, two minutes."

"Countdown!" Skullduggery screeched. "One . . .two . . .three . . .four . . ."

Harry looked at Ron. "Do you know what they did?"

"Not a clue, mate. But this ought to be good!" He was looking forward to seeing the prat Malfoy get taken down a peg or two.

So was everyone else at the table, or so it seemed. Even Hermione took her nose out of her textbook to glance over at the Slytherin table.

Skull finished counting down the minutes, and as soon as the raven had trilled "One hundred and twenty!" it happened.

Draco was rapidly eating his roast beef and potatoes, ignoring what was going on around him for once. Thus, he didn't notice that his hair had suddenly morphed into large spiky black feathers and his clothes were changed into beggar's rags colored crimson and gold.

Several Slytherins looked at him goggle-eyed, especially Crabbe and Goyle, because his whole House knew how particular Malfoy was about his appearance. He was quite vain and all of his clothes were of the highest quality and he hated looking unkempt.

The Gryffindors were laughing and pointing, but that was not the worst of the prank.

Draco opened his mouth to ask why everyone at the table was staring at him like he'd grown an extra head when a sharp cawing sound came out of his mouth . . .like the call of a raven. Malfoy clamped a hand over his mouth, horrified. What's happened to me? I can't talk . . .I sound like a bloody bird! Like a . . .raven! He turned and looked over at the Gryffindor table, they were roaring at him and jeering. He felt himself flush with anger and embarrassment. He knew one of them had pranked him. Two, most likely. This had the feel of a Weasley twin joke.

Then he looked down and saw, to his horror, that he was wearing . . .a torn ragged shirt and ripped jeans, sneakers with holes and the soles coming apart. In short, he looked like a reject from a trash bin, and the shirt was Gryffindor colors. He waved his wand and tried to change his clothes back, but he kept croaking like a raven and so the spell failed because he couldn't pronounce it properly.

"Crabbe! Goyle! Rrrawk! Don't just stand—awwk—there! Help me! Rrawk-arck!"

"How? We dunno what they did, Draco," said Goyle.

Draco turned to his Housemates, most of whom were laughing behind their hands. "Hey! Somebody take this—caw, caw—curse off me!"

"Why?" Flint asked coldly from down the table. "We all know what you almost did to the professor's raven. "

Draco opened his mouth to protest, only to find several more pairs of disapproving eyes glaring down at him. Unable to face the censure of his Housemates as well as the amusement of the rest of the student body, Malfoy turned and fled from the hall, vowing revenge on Potter, who not only couldn't keep his fat mouth shut, but who also had sicced his pet Weasleys on him. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to make that four-eyed freak pay. Because nobody made a fool out of a Malfoy and got away with it.

Up at the staff table, the talk had turned from familiars to the more practical issue of how to restore the library. Irma nearly waxed poetic over the donations she had already received from students and parents. "I'm delighted to see how the children care about the library. I never expected anything like this!"

"It's really great," Lena agreed. "I've thought of a way to raise even more donations. The students are limited in what they can send, but how about the former Hogwarts alumni? Why not contact them and ask if they wish to contribute? I know several former classmates who would be willing to donate books and Galleons for a good cause."

"Why, that's brilliant, Lena!" Madam Pince praised.

"I could send out letters," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

Severus nodded, for it was a very good idea. She's not only intelligent, but innovative. He was about to suggest that Albus send a letter to the Academy of Potioneers and ask them to donate some of their Advanced Potion Making books when a commotion down the hall caught his attention. What now? Must there be a disturbance almost every meal?

Minerva was also peering down the hall, frowning. "Severus, it would seem some of my lions have pranked one of your snakes. Do you wish to deal with this, or shall I?"

Severus felt a muscle twitch in his temple upon seeing that the butt of the joke was Malfoy, who appeared to have sprouted feathers like a raven and was wearing rags. Clearly, someone fond of Skull had done this. He waved at Minerva. "It's your turn, Minerva. Deal with it as you see fit."

McGonagall rose and stalked down the aisle to her House table just as Malfoy exited the hall.

"Mr. Malfoy! Wait!" she called, but he was already gone. Face grim, she turned to look at her House members, all of whom were sniggering like a pack of inbred hyenas. "Enough! Which one of you did that?"

The Gryffindors stilled and Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked away.

But no one answered her. She pursed her lips. "I have a good idea who started it, Frederick and George." She gave them a severe glower. "Everyone, wands on the table!"

Reluctantly, they all placed their wands on the table, and Minerva cast Priori Incantatum upon them. Both twins wands showed evidence of the prank and she said severely, "I expected better of you two! What reason did you have for playing such a cruel joke on Malfoy?"

"Professor, it'll wear off in a few hours," began George. He didn't tell her about stage three. "Malfoy deserved it after what he did to Harry."

"And he almost killed Skull," added Fred. "Malfoy threw a brush at him and knocked him off his cauldron in detention."

There were murmurs of agreement from the other Gryffindors.

"He's a nasty little snot, hurting a raven that way!"

"That is not for you to judge," Minerva cut in. "I am sure Professor Snape is quite capable of punishing Malfoy on his own, without interference from anyone else. Revenge only breeds resentment and trouble and is not honorable. Misters Weasley, you shall have detention with me this weekend and twenty points from Gryffindor."

Groans followed this statement.

"You're lucky I don't forbid you from playing Quidditch!" she scolded. The twins apologized. "Now where did Mr. Malfoy go off to?" she muttered half to herself.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish!" Skull cawed.

Minerva spun on him. "Quiet, you impudent rascal! Before I decide that raven is a good appetizer."

Skullduggery squawked, pretending shock. Then he fluttered to her shoulder and crooned, "Pussycat, pussycat I love you!"

The students cracked up.

"Be off with you!" McGonagall ordered, blushing. "You love my shortbread, you wicked thing!"

Skullduggery gave a chuckle, and nibbled at her scarf before taking wing and returning to Severus with a smug look in his eye.

McGonagall left to search for Malfoy, but after twenty minutes returned to the hall, unable to find where he had gone, since he was not in any of the usual places, like the boys bathroom or the Slytherin common room. Since the hexes the twins had cast were not harmful and really would wear off after eight hours, she did not bother turning the castle upside down. Malfoy had most likely crawled into a corner to nurse his wounded dignity and would return to his common room by curfew.

"Too bad that you got caught," Ron said to his brothers. "That prank was brilliant."

"Yeah, it was," agreed Wood. "But you know McGonagall."

"Strict old cat!" muttered someone else.

"But that's not all of it," Fred declared.

"You mean there's more?" asked their little brother.

Both twins nodded. "That was parts one and two."

"Part three will start tomorrow."

"What is it?"

"The Quill of Doom," George smirked.

Percy frowned. "Can you stop it?"

Fred shook his head. "No. It's too late. Quill's already magicked."

"Well, don't come crying to me if she pulls you off the team."

"She wouldn't!" the twins said simultaneously. "Besides, she can't prove we did it. We swapped Malfoy's quill just before dinner."

"Won't he notice?" asked Hermione.

"No, because—"

"—we charmed it to look like his old one. But it's really one—"

"—of old Skull's feathers!"

"What's it going to do?" asked Neville, quivering slightly. "Explode ink all over?"

"You'll see," was all they answered.

The last detention Harry and Malfoy served was also in the library. That night Snape set them to dusting the shelves and sweeping the floor while he, Madam Pince, and Lena tagged and catalogued donations. Malfoy was surly and kept shooting glares at Harry, but he didn't do anything to sabotage the other's efforts. The spell of beggar's rags and raven hair wore off by the end of the night, though during the detention Skullduggery kept flying about Draco's head, cooing, "My, what lovely feathers you have!"

Draco gritted his teeth and ignored the raven, and Skull soon grew bored and flew off to tease Mrs. Norris.

Then Snape came over to inspect their work so far and cancelled the rest of the charm upon Malfoy. Lena approached them as well and introduced herself. They shook hands with her politely and she asked if they would be coming to the library more often to assist them. "I know this is a detention for you now, but you both seem like good workers and we could use all the help we can get. "

"I would be glad to help," Harry said quietly.

"Me too," said Malfoy, making Harry do a doubletake. That was such a shock.

"Wonderful! I look forward to seeing you back again," the young librarian said, then she left them to finish up their task.

Harry liked Lena, she was much more approachable than Madam Pince and whole lot friendlier. He was suspicious of Malfoy's sudden change in attitude, unsure if the blond was really trying to change or just making believe he was. It was a relief when the detention ended and Snape dismissed them after saying that he hoped they had learned their lesson about dueling. Harry checked his watch, discovering it was only eight thirty, which meant he still had time to finish up some homework and then read a bit more in the potions text Snape had allowed him to borrow. It was called Potions for Adventurous Beginners and contained several drafts his standard book did not. He was anxious to also get a decent night's sleep before tomorrow's Quidditch game. Luckily he only had Herbology and Transfiguration tomorrow.

He tucked his watch away in his robe pocket, bid good night to the teachers and hurried off. He didn't notice Malfoy eying him shrewdly before heading in the opposite direction.

The next morning:

Harry yawned his way through breakfast, for despite his resolve to get a good night's sleep, he had gotten sucked into the potions book and had read until his eyes shut and the book fell over his face, finally passing out at close to two in the morning. As a result he was muzzy headed and barely picked at his food. He did remember to drink his Nutrient Suppliment, which didn't taste as awful as it looked.

"What is that nasty looking stuff?" asked Ron, frowning at the greenish sludge clinging to beaker after Harry set it down.

"Nutrient Suppliment. I have to drink it, Pomfrey says I'm deficient in vitamins and minerals."

"Ugh! Does it taste as gross as it looks?"

"No, not really. It's okay." Harry said, pushing his eggs and ham about on his plate, but not really eating any of it.

He should have known better than to try and pull the wool over Snape's eyes though. His unofficial guardian disliked when he skipped meals and soon Skullduggery was landing on his shoulder and hissing into Harry's ear in Snape's silky tones, "You had better quit playing with that food, boy, and eat it or else I shall come and stand over you and watch every bite you put in your mouth and take points for dawdling over breakfast."

"Okay. I'm eating," Harry muttered, and he swallowed a forkful of eggs and ham. He couldn't understand why Snape was so stuck on him eating more. So what if he was a bit small? It made it easier to be Seeker that way. He forced himself to eat half the portion he had taken. Severus had been trying to get him to eat small meals several times a day, hoping to increase Harry's appetite gradually.

Skull nibbled at his hair affectionately. It was then that Harry recalled he had never reminded Severus about going to Gringotts this weekend. "Skull," he whispered. "Can you take a message to Professor Snape for me?"

The raven bobbed his head. "Certainly. Tell me."

"Uh . . .I want to remind him about going to Gringotts this weekend. He said he'd take me so I could give a donation to the library. That's all."

Skull made a sort of tapping noise and then flew off, heading straight for the professor. Harry turned and saw the raven delivering the message to the Potions Master, who nodded in understanding. What a marvelous bird Skull was! He loved Hedwig, but it was infinitely easier to just speak a message to the raven and then send him off with it, rather than having to write with quill and parchment.

Harry finished his pumpkin juice just as Skullduggery came back and told Harry that Snape wished to see him before the Quidditch match in his office. "All right, I'll be there."

"What was that all about?" asked Ron.

"Potions question," Harry replied noncommittally. Since he hadn't accepted Snape's guardianship as yet, he didn't want to act like he had any sort of special relationship with the professor.

"You and your potions, Harry. You're as bad as Hermione." Ron rolled his eyes, then pushed back his plate and rose to his feet. "I wonder what we'll have to Transfigure today? Porcupines into pillows? Mice into baby shoes?"

"I think we're Transfiguring crickets into matchboxes," Hermione said brightly.

"How would you know?" asked Ron.

"I read ahead to chapter five," she replied.

It turned out that Hermione was right, they were Transfiguring crickets into matchboxes.

Harry tried four times before he succeeded in making his matchbox look like a matchbox, not a box with four cricket legs or wings or eyes. He had to admit that Transfiguration wasn't his best subject, unlike potions. However, he wasn't the only one struggling with today's spell. Neville couldn't get much further than a cardboard looking cricket, and Dean and Seamus both couldn't lose their cricket's back legs.

Only Draco succeeded in Transfiguring his cricket on the first try, earning twenty-five points for Slytherin. But the celebratory mood didn't last too long, because after correcting the rest of the students, Minerva went and began to look over the homework they had just handed in while the class copied notes and the new homework off the board.

For awhile, all was silent save for the scratch of quills on parchment. Harry glanced surreptitiously over at Malfoy, wondering if the quill in the other's hand was the one the twins had jinxed. But he couldn't see anything different about it, it looked like an ordinary goose feather.

Then the silence was broken by Professor McGonagall exclaiming, "Mr. Malfoy, what do you mean by this . . .this rubbish? You call this homework, young man?"

Malfoy looked up at her, she looked spitting mad as wet cat. He wore a puzzled look on his face. "What? I don't understand . . .what are you talking about, Professor?"

"What am I talking about?" she said in a dangerously quiet tone. "I am talking about your homework answers, Mr. Malfoy. Question one, describe the three states of matter—you answered I'm not sure but when you're a tabby you tend to cross your eyes and eat dead fish and we all know that combination leads to gas that can make you pass out."

Several students snickered and Minerva continued, glaring at Malfoy. "Shall I go on? Question two—What happens when you transform a solid into liquid? You wrote—Don't you know the answer, you old puss? You should because you've been around the block a few times, or so I've heard."

Gasps came from some of the Gryffindor girls, who then shot Malfoy dirty looks.

"Professor, I-I never wrote that!" Malfoy bleated. But then he hid a smirk, unable to help himself.

"Then this isn't your handwriting?" Minerva demanded, furious. She marched over to Draco and shoved the parchment under his nose. "Well?"

Draco looked down and gulped. "Uh . . .yes, ma'am, it is, but . . .I didn't write this! I was just doing my homework!"

"Oh, really? You know, Mr. Malfoy, lying will only get you in worse trouble."

"I'm not! I wrote the answers with this quill here, and that's all!"

McGonagall snorted. "I'm sure you think this is very amusing, Malfoy. To claim you did your homework and dare to hand this in—I have never been so insulted in my life! Thirty points from Slytherin and it'll be more unless you admit your guilt."

"I can't!" Malfoy cried. "The quill . . .the quill is cursed!" He shook it and shoved it at McGonagall.

The irate witch took the quill and muttered a detection charm on it, but nothing happened. "I highly doubt that, Mr. Malfoy. The quill seems fine. It's your sense of humor I have a problem with." She tapped a line where it said, When you lick yourself does it make you tingly inside? "I will not tolerate this sort of lewdness! You shall serve detention with me this weekend. And re-do all your homework as well."

She stalked back to her desk in a huff, had she been a cat her fur would have been abristle and her tail lashing angrily. The murmuring and snickering died down when she spun around and snapped, "The next person who so much as chuckles will be in detention with me for a week for disrespect. Even if you are in my House."

Everyone went silent, save for Ron who whispered at Harry, "So that's what they did, made his quill write nothing but insults. Merlin, but that's bloody brilliant!"

Harry had to agree. He nearly felt sorry for the other boy, though. Until he recalled how insufferable Malfoy usually was, and then he didn't feel quite so bad. Malfoy was always insulting Ron and Hermione, and he gloated whenever Gryffindor lost points. And whenever he started trouble, he made sure that someone else took the blame for it.

"But Professor . . ." Malfoy was whining. "I swear the quill was jinxed! Look, I'll show you."

He grabbed a sheet of parchment out of his notebook and wrote My name is Draco Malfoy. Then he showed it to her. "Look at that, Ma'am."

McGonagall frowned. "Very funny, Mr. Malfoy."

"You saw something else?"

"No, I see you've written, My name is Draco Malfoy. That quill has no more magic than the goose it was taken from."

Harry exchanged glances with Ron. Neither of them could figure out how the twins had pulled this one off. Unless . . .they had managed to swap out the quills again? But Harry couldn't imagine how they had done it. They weren't in the same House and didn't have access to the Slytherin common room.

"Detention, Mr. Malfoy, tomorrow night. And another ten points from Slytherin for trying to make a fool out of me. Class dismissed!"

They all filed out, the Gryffindors smirking and giggling. Harry started walking towards the stairs, feeling Malfoy's death glare stab him between the shoulderblades. But when he looked back, Malfoy was muttering to Crabbe and Goyle about writing to his father and telling him his son was being treated unfairly.

Ron overheard and brayed, "That's it, Malfoy, go crying home to daddy and tell him how miserable you are."

"Up yours, Weasley!" spat Draco. He hated Ron almost as much as he did Harry right then. Just wait, Potter. Just wait. We'll see who laughs last and goes home crying.

The afternoon of the Quidditch match was bright and clear, classes had been cancelled for Friday afternoon, and all Harry had to worry about was lunch and Herbology. But he discovered he was so nervous he couldn't eat much, and barely choked down a ham sandwich, crisps, and a banana. He cast an uneasy glance up at the staff table, expecting to see Snape glowering down at him, but the black-robed professor was absent. So Harry relaxed a little and nibbled his sandwich and drank his Nutrient Suppliment.

This was only his second Quidditch match, and given what had happened in the last one, Harry was understandably nervous. Inbetween bites of his breakfast, Ron suggested Quidditch tips to Harry, along with the twins, recounting former pro Quidditch Seekers moves and signature catches. On his other side, Hermione quizzed him on his Herbology notes, and in a matter of minutes Harry felt his head start to spin. "Wait . . .what was that last question?" he asked Hermione. "Half a minute, Ron!"

Hermione repeated the question and Harry answered it correctly now that he was concentrating.

"Harry, who cares about Herbology?" Ron groused. "You need to keep your mind on the game. The Ravenclaw Seeker is really good this year."

Harry sighed and turned to the redhead. "I hear you, Ron. But I need to get good marks in Herbology too. It's my next class. After that I can concentrate upon the game." He told the other boy.

Hermione asked him the last question upon the homework sheet and Harry answered it correctly.

Fred reached over and gave Harry a friendly cuff on the shoulder. "Don't worry so much, Harry. More than likely you'll be okay this match. If it wasn't Snape who hexed your broom last time—"

"It wasn't," Harry asserted firmly. If there was one thing he did know, it was that.

"Then whoever it was is going to have a hard time pulling anything with Snape as ref," Fred finished. "The man has eyes in the back of his head and on all sides too. George and I almost never—"

"—get away with anything in his class." His twin added.

Harry just hoped they were right. He never wanted to go through a ride like the last one. Even now, just recalling it made his stomach clench and roil. He never let on that riding a broom now made him scared and uneasy, every time he soared into the air he felt a trifle dizzy, as if he might fall. He had told no one, however, not wanting to seem like a coward, and also not wanting to let down his team. But in the last practice run, he had come close to losing his breakfast after making a single looping pass across the pitch. He prayed he could keep himself under wraps until the end of the game.

Then he recalled that Snape wanted to see him in his office before the match, and wondered what the teacher might want to speak to him about before the game. He forced himself to swallow another bite of toast. Guess I'll know when I go there. Maybe he wants to talk to me about the trip to Gringotts. I hope it's not to cancel it, because I'm really looking forward to going there.

HPSSHPSSHP

Harry dressed quickly in his Quidditch uniform, carefully stowing his regular robes and clothes in his small locker, which had his name written on it in gold script. He removed his watch from his pocket, he never flew with it, he was too afraid of losing it if he made a quick turn or something. He carefully opened it and stared at the picture of Lily, which smiled and waved at him. "Wish me luck, Mum." He smiled back at the photo, then gently shut the watch and put it inside the locker. He shut the door and the lock magically locked itself. Harry opened it with the special key he had tied about his neck.

Then he picked up his broom, which was one of the school brooms, and tucked it under his arm. He headed quickly down the stairs to the dungeons, wishing he knew a secret passage that would get him to Snape's office faster. He knocked upon the professor's door.

"Enter."

Harry pushed open the door and shut it behind him before coming to stand before Snape's desk, which was piled with parchments and folders. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Severus set down the essay he was attempting to read and focused upon the boy he had pledged to keep safe at all costs, the boy he was coming to see almost like a son. "Good afternoon, Harry. I see you're all prepared for the match."

"Yes, sir." Harry answered, leaning his broom against his shoulder.

Severus eyed the broom sharply. "May I examine your broom?"

"Uh . . .yes, but Professor McGonagall already did that. She said there weren't any hexes upon it." Harry handed his broom over to Snape, who muttered several detection spells and waved his wand over it.

Severus scowled down at the inanimate object. The broom was clean of Dark influences. And yet . . .he didn't trust Harry's safety upon it. Which was why he had sent to Quality Quidditch Supplies last night and paid extra to have them ship his purchase to him by Express Owl Post. It had arrived this morning, and he had spent the better part of breakfast casting Anti-Jinx wards upon it. He was taking no chances this time.

"Something wrong, sir?" Harry asked uneasily, digging his sneaker into the floor. Why was the professor glaring that way at his broom, as if he wanted to break it over his knee and toss it in the fire?

Snape looked up into the worried green eyes. "This broom is not adequate enough for you to continue playing Quidditch on it." Severus set the broom behind him and retrieved a long brown package that he had stashed beneath his desk. "Therefore, as your guardian, I have provided you with a better one."

He handed the package to Harry.

"For me, sir?" The green eyes were bright with astonishment and delight.

"Do you see another eleven-year-old standing here?"

Harry smiled and tore open the package to reveal a brand new sleek racing broom. On the handle were the words Nimbus 2000 on one side and on the other was Potter engraved in gold script. Harry was so overwhelmed at the magnificent gift that he couldn't speak. He just remained staring down at the broom in his hand. "Professor . . .Severus . . .I . . .can't accept this . . .it's too much . . ." he began.

From what little he'd read about Quidditch and recalled from looking at Ron's Quidditch magazines, a broom like this cost a fortune. He made as if to return the broom, though he longed to keep it with everything in him.

Severus' hands closed firmly about his own. "You can and you will. Consider it a . . .belated birthday present, Mr. Potter. I will not have you risking your neck again on an inferior broom. If you insist upon participating in this bloody sport, you ought to have proper equipment."

Harry lifted his eyes and gave Snape a tentative smile. "Thank you, sir. What can this broom do?"

"I have woven several safety wards and charms into it. It will keep you safe. It is also very fast, however, so treat it with respect. This is the top broom used by the International Quidditch Association. Fly well, Harry."

Harry now allowed himself to smile outright. "I will. Are we still going to Gringotts tomorrow?"

"I said we would, didn't I? You ought to know by now I always do what I say. Be ready for ten o'clock tomorrow. You may eat breakfast in the hall and then we shall leave. One other thing. If anyone asks about the Nimbus, tell them only that it was a present from an old family friend, understand?"

"Okay. But why?"

"I will explain everything later. For now, do as I say."

Harry agreed, running his hands lovingly over the soft wood grain finish. "I'll see you on the pitch, professor."

"Yes. Go, before you're late," Snape waved him off.

"Thanks so much! It's the best present ever!"

He hurried out of the office, still overwhelmed with his unexpected gift.

As he was walking down the hall, a raven flew overhead, croaking, "Good luck, Harry!"

"Thanks, Skull!" Harry waved at the familiar before disappearing round a bend.

Now, if only he could get his stomach under control he'd be fine.

HPSSHPSSHP

Oliver Wood's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the Nimbus Harry was carrying as he joined his team. "Merlin's ever-loving balls, Potter! Where did you get a Nimbus 2000?"

"A Nimbus?" Fred squeaked.

"Where? Let me see!" George gasped.

"I thought they were impossible to get now!" squealed Alicia Spinnet.

"Who did you pay off, Harry, to get that?" teased Angelina Johnson.

"Must have been someone with a lot of Galleons," added Katie Bell mischievously.

His teammates crowded around him, each one trying to see or touch the broomstick.

Harry was flustered by all the attention and just stood there while they all admired the broom. His mind was not on the game, but on how he was ever going to repay Severus' generosity. From the reactions of his teammates, he feared that the professor had put himself in debt to buy this broom and Harry felt sharp twinges of regret, for he felt he didn't deserve anything like this after he'd rejected Snape's offer. But wait! Maybe he could accept the offer . . .after all, no one would spend such a sum on anyone unless he really wanted a child to share his life, would he? Harry bit his lip. After the game, he would think about it, and then he would go to Snape and tell him what he had decided.

The Ravenclaw team saw the broom as well, and there was much sighing and envious looks shot the young Seeker's way, as well as much speculation about where Harry had gotten the Nimbus. Unknown to them, a small blond-haired boy was hovering behind a goal post and saw the Nimbus as well.

A Nimbus! Wonder where he got that? His fan club? Draco thought enviously. I've been asking for one from Mother and Father for ages. He scowled down at his rival, then stalked off the field, thinking that now he had another reason to detest the green-eyed Gryffindor. Normally, he would have gone directly to the stands with the other Slytherins to watch the match, for he loved Quidditch, but today he had another mission in mind. It was time to give Potter a taste of his own medicine.

HPSSHPSSHP

Severus put Hooch's whistle to his lips and blew a loud blast. The Quaffle, Bludgers, and Snitch were released and the players soared into the air, scattering across the sky like stardust. Severus rose upwards at nearly the same time as the two teams, keeping a sharp eye out for any attempt at foul play and also watching his unofficial ward.

Harry seemed to be relaxed and calm, he sat the Nimbus like he'd been born upon it, and for an instant, Snape turned his gaze away to watch the battle for the Quaffle and how the Beaters for both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor attacked the Bludgers. Lee Jordan, the announcer, was already giving the spectators a running commentary, Snape thought if he kept it up, he might have a future with the Wizarding Wireless.

Harry found that he felt safer on the Nimbus than he had upon the other broom he'd been riding. So he was able to relax more and concentrate upon locating the Snitch. His previous tactic was to track the winged globe from the moment it was released, and he had tried to do it this time as well, only he hadn't been prepared for the sheer speed the Nimbus possessed. When he had kicked off, the Nimbus had exploded under him like a rocket, carrying him high into the air before his eyes managed to fix upon the Snitch.

The Ravenclaw Seeker spotted the Snitch as well, and dove down towards it.

Harry managed to neatly intercept her and the Nimbus whipped him about in a corkscrew 180 that left the other Seeker gaping. Harry narrowed his focus and streaked after the winged golden ball, which moved like lightning, like a hummingbird on speed, it danced and twirled about, here, there, and everywhere.

Harry followed it across the sky as best he could, relying on the Nimbus' speed and the alertness of Fred and George to keep the Bludgers from interfering in his pursuit.

Severus' eyes were drawn once more to his ward, and inwardly he cursed the insane impulse that had led him to buy a professional racing broom for a mere eleven-year-old. Snape, what the HELL were you thinking? His conscience scolded him fiercely. I must have had a bout of temporary insanity. Look at how fast he's going. Like a bat out of hell and then some. If Lily were here now, she'd probably hex you to pieces.

Even though he'd personally placed charms upon the broom, he knew that might not be enough to keep Harry safe. Quidditch was a dangerous sport, anything could happen. Severus felt his heart crawl into his throat as he watched Harry slingshot about a goal post, narrowly avoiding crashing. He wondered if the boy was crazy, filled with arrogance, or simply fearless. He cursed Dumbledore for making him referee this match—the Headmaster knew he detested Quidditch! He spun about, narrowly avoiding the Quaffle.

Fifteen minutes had gone by and the score was tied at 10 to 10. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams were evenly matched, it seemed. Harry had lost the Snitch in the clouds, but soon spotted it again at the opposite end of the field. He urged the Nimbus faster and weaved in and out of the other players squabbling over the Quaffle.

No one could have predicted what happened next.

Severus saw an oddly shaped cloud gliding across the sky, it looked like a narrow strip of silver and black, like a storm cloud, but there wasn't another sign of inclement weather about. He dismissed it briefly to look over at Harry and it was then that the cloud expanded and spat out steel gray creatures shaped like vicious hounds with bat-like wings and eyes that burned a lurid yellow, formed of smoke and swirling storm winds.

Hermione stared at the strange swirling things that had appeared out of nowhere and tapped Ron on the shoulder. "Ron, what are those things over there?"

"Huh?" Ron had been focusing on Alicia Spinnet scoring another goal and had not seen the smoke creatures appear. "What things?"

Hermione pointed.

Ron gasped. "Merlin's pants! They're storm spirits."

"What are they?" Hermione asked. "What are they doing here?" A moment later her question was answered and she screamed as they dove down towards her best friend. "Ron! They're . . .attacking Harry!"

Ron's eyes bulged as the deadly spirits surged towards Harry on his Nimbus, who was so intent upon catching the Snitch that he didn't realize the danger he was in. "Harry! Watch out!" he screamed, knowing all the while that it was hopeless, his friend couldn't hear him over the screaming wind and even if he did, an apprentice wizard was no match for three hungry storm spirits.

Severus saw the storm spirits converge upon Harry, and for a moment he watched in disbelief. Storm spirits were not something that occurred naturally, not even in Hogwarts, which was drenched with magical influences. They had to be summoned, though once summoned, they gleefully wreaked havoc wherever they happened to be. They were devious, cunning, and delighted in causing mayhem. Right then they were diving at Harry, screeching wickedly.

Harry felt something icy cold snatch his arm and yank hard. "Hey! What the bloody hell?" he screamed, before feeling something hard and cold, like a frost-coated knife, grab his other arm and drag him off his broom. He tried to hold onto the Nimbus, but his arms went numb and heavy, cold shooting through him. His fingers opened, unable to feel the broomstick and he heard the treacherous howl of the wind as it swept him away.

The storm spirits threw Harry into the air, swirling about him like a tornado, their long muzzles gaping, spewing out icy cold laughter as well as arctic winds that formed ice crystals across Harry's glasses. He was simultaneously sucked downward into a vortex and then released to bounce atop the air currents.

Severus flew faster than he ever had in his life, right into the teeth of the capricious and vicious spirits, his wand out and giving the first spirit a concentrated blast of magic that blew the hound-shaped creature into wisps of smoke. But in his fury he had not reckoned that doing so might cause the spirits to drop Harry.

By then, the other players were also becoming affected by the spirits and they were banging into each other and screaming, the game forgotten as they sought land their brooms before they spun out of control. Within minutes all was chaos in the air.

Harry tumbled through the air like a ragdoll, only to be caught by Severus.

Severus grunted as sixty pounds of falling boy collided with his chest, and unable to brace himself for the impact, he was knocked backwards off his broom.

He had barely time enough to cast a Cushioning Charm and another to slow his flight so he wouldn't end up with his brains splattered all over, before the two storm spirits attempted to rip Harry from his arms. Terrified that they would succeed, Severus locked his arms about the boy and prayed they would hit the ground before the wicked things succeeded.

Skullduggery had been observing the match and his wizard master from his perch in the stands on the Slytherin side. The raven was amused at how the silly two-legs attempted to fly like birds, and he enjoyed watching them, even if they were clumsy as chickens in the air. But when the storm spirits attacked Harry and Severus, the raven cawed in alarm, sensing that his wizard and the raven boy were in peril.

The raven flapped upwards into the sky, releasing a long loud cry as he did so. Ravens were Keepers of the Old Magics, and on rare occasions could use this knowledge to summon help for themselves and their wizard companions when needed. Thus Skullduggery used his knowledge of ancient magic to call upon a powerful ally, one who had always aided the trickster ravens, though the help was never without a price.

But the price would be reckoned later.

There came a terrific BOOM!

Then the sky grew dark and the clouds opened up and rain came pelting down.

Accompanying the rain was a huge raptor with wings of red, black, yellow, and white, thunder boomed with every beat of its wings and lightning flashed from its eyes, reducing the pursuing storm spirits to mere puffs of ash. The Thunderbird, sacred magical beast of Native American myth, circled the pitch once and inclined its head to the tiny raven. Little brother, I have come as you wished, and saved those in need. You owe me a debt, be ready when next I Summon you.

In the next instant, the thunderbird vanished, taking the rain and lightning with it.

Snape and Harry fell to the ground, striking the ground hard in spite of the charms Severus had cast.

For one moment Harry lay still, gasping for air, until he sat up and realized that he was lying on top of his teacher, who was motionless upon the ground.

"Professor?" he called, fear making him unable to speak in more than a whisper. "Professor Snape, are you okay?"

The man's face was wet from the rain, pale, and his eyes were closed. Harry quickly scrambled off him, terrified that Snape was dead. Tentatively, he put a hand against the professor's nose and felt warm breath hit his palm. He's breathing, that's a good sign, Harry told himself, but terror still crushed his throat. Don't die, Severus! Please! I never got the chance to tell you that I . . .want you for my guardian. I really do! Please, please . . .don't die! He didn't even realize he had spoken those words aloud until he heard Snape groan and open his eyes.

"Not dying . . .Cushioning Charm helped . . .might have broken something though . . ."

Severus attempted to sit up, gasping as a bolt of agony shot through his shoulder and back. Before he could say anything else, Dumbledore was there, kneeling beside him.

"Severus, you need to go to the Hospital Wing. After a fall like that, you've probably broken something. Let me summon a stretcher, my boy." Waving his wand, a stretcher popped up, and then the old wizard gently levitated his injured Potions Master upon it. "Harry, are you all right? Do you need Poppy to have a look at you too?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I'm not hurt. Professor Snape broke my fall," he managed to say. He struggled to keep from crying like a baby.

"Albus, how is he?" asked McGonagall, rushing over to them.

Severus had suddenly gone grey and passed out.

"We need to let Poppy heal him, Minerva." Albus replied. "Mobili Corpus!"

"Merlin's bones, Albus! What happened out there? I've never seen anything like it in all my years as a teacher here."

Before Dumbledore could reply, Skull landed upon the comatose Potions Master and made a sound that was half-sob and half-cry. "Storm spirits! Poor Sev!" He huddled against Severus' chest like a black sentinel.

Minerva gasped. Then she saw Harry, who was still standing next to Severus' stretcher. "Potter, are you all right? Were you hurt?"

Harry shook his head. "I . . .they didn't hurt me . . .not like . . .the professor," he mumbled.

Minerva looked at him sympathetically. "Nevertheless, you've had quite a shock and should let Poppy examine you. Get your broom and go and get changed, then report to the Hospital Wing as soon as you're presentable. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, not bothering to tell her he would have gone there anyway to see how Snape was. He glanced about for his broom and discovered it lying a few feet away. Miraculously, it seemed undamaged. He hurried to pick it up and then followed the two teachers off the pitch, ignoring the other students who tried to grab his sleeve and ask him questions.

All he cared about now was getting out of his uniform and into dry clothes, he was soaking wet, cold, and sick with fear over Snape. Once more Snape had been injured trying to save him. He didn't know what the hell "storm spirits" were, but for some reason they had been trying to kill him. That thought turned him cold and he fought to keep his teeth from chattering as he ran from the pitch back to the Gryffindor locker room.

He was the first to arrive, the rest of his teammates were still on the field, discussing what had happened with their friends. Trembling, he started to remove his robes and shirt. There were long scratches upon his shoulders, scratches that were rimed with white skin, which burned icily when he ran a finger across them. But he ignored them, instead unlocking his locker and pulling out his dry clothing.

He tossed his wet robes on the floor and began to dress hastily. But it wasn't until he pulled on his school robes and reached in his pocket to pull out his watch and see what time it was that he realized it was not there. My watch! It's not here. But that's impossible. I put it in here, I know I did.

He peered into the locker, it was empty. He looked about on the floor, but it was nowhere nearby. He pulled out his pockets, first one and then the other, growing more and more frantic. Where was it? How could he have lost it? It was the only thing he had with his mother's picture, the only thing he had to remind him of her face. He patted his jeans, praying it had gotten stuck in his back pocket. Nothing.

He dropped to his knees and crawled about, looking under the benches and all along the floor.

Once again, he turned up empty-handed. He had lost the gift Severus had given him. He didn't know how it could have happened, but there was no arguing facts. Feeling even more nauseous than before, aching all over, Harry trudged from the locker room and up the corridor to the Hospital Wing. His hand slid automatically into the right pocket of his robe, where the watch used to be, hoping that by some miracle it would reappear. But his hand closed over empty air. The watch was gone.

Head down, he walked quickly through the hallway, hoping that Severus was not awake yet, for he did not know how he could face the wizard and tell him that the watch Snape had entrusted him with was now missing.

When Harry arrived at the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey directed him to put on the striped hospital pajamas lying on the alcove bed and lie down.  He saw Severus lying pale and still in a bed just down from the one he had and looked inquiringly at the medi-witch. "Madam Pomfrey, will Professor Snape be all right?"

"In a day or two he'll mend, boy." The witch said briskly.

"Was he badly hurt?"

"He's got a slipped disc in his back and a broken collarbone, plus a few cracked ribs.  Nothing truly life threatening, all things considered." She shook her head and sighed.  "He's becoming as accident prone as you are, Mr. Potter." She pointed to the bed. "Bed, young man."

Harry obeyed, sitting on the bed.  "It wasn't really an accident, Madam Pomfrey. There were these evil ghost dogs or something that ripped me off my broom and tossed me in the air and Professor Snape caught me-"

She held up a hand. "Never mind the explanations, Mr. Potter.  There have been more crazy happenings going on at this school now than I've seen in all my years as a mediwitch here and I'd prefer not to go into detail, spares me having to take Dreamless Sleep to keep the nightmares at bay." She drew her wand and ran it over him.  "Hmm.  Well, you're bruised but otherwise intact. You've had quite a shock, and could probably use a Calming Draft."

She administered a Calming Draft and then spread some Bruise Balm upon him.  Harry protested, red to the tips of his ears, insisting that he was fine, until a soft authoritative voice ordered, "Mr. Potter, be still and allow Madam Pomfrey to tend to you."

Harry thrilled to hear that familiar voice.  "Yes, sir." He found himself obeying, lying still, even if he felt embarrassed as hell.

"You'll find, Potter, that you'll be able to sleep sooner if you let her do all her poking and prodding in the beginning." Snape drawled.

Harry buried his face in his pillow to hide his grin.

Pomfrey scowled. "Very funny, Severus. You're next."

The Potions Master grimaced.

But he swallowed the potions she gave him without complaint. 

After instructing her charges to take a nap, Poppy bustled off to her office to check on all the first year vaccination records, most had already had all the required vaccinations, though a few were due for boosters, and a few of the Muggleborn and Muggle raised children needed to receive them for the first time.  One of those was Harry, though she decided to allow him to rest today and give him the vaccinations tomorrow.

Harry only pretended to close his eyes, but as soon as he thought Pomfrey was out of earshot, he opened them and sat up. "Professor?"

Severus also opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the eleven-year-old.   "What is it, Harry? Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir. Just a little bruised. How are you?"

"I've had worse. It was fortunate that I managed to cast a Cushioning Charm when I did, otherwise the damage would have been worse." Severus said candidly.

Harry flinched just thinking about it. Once again Severus had been injured and nearly killed because of him.  "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.

The professor arched an eyebrow. "You have no need to apologize. It was not you who summoned the storm spirits and set them upon you.  And anyone else who happened to be nearby. If you wish to blame someone, then blame the one who attacked you."

"But . . . you were hurt rescuing me."

"Your point?" asked Snape testily.  "I am your protector, that is what I am supposed to do."

"Because you promised my mum."

"That is only one reason.  You, yourself, are worthy of my concern and care. Never doubt that.  Never."

Snape's sincerity warmed Harry to the core of his being, alleviating some of the guilt he felt. But still, he felt responsible for the professor's injuries.  "I just don't want . . .you to die for me," he whispered, swallowing hard.  "Not like they did."

"I cannot promise you that, Harry.  You have powerful enemies, ones who are ruthless and cruel.  But know that I do not risk my life on a whim, or recklessly.  I am no martyr, and I will protect you best alive. What occurred today was as a result of my own carelessness, I should have been expecting something like this.  If not for Skullduggery's interference . . ." Snape broke off abruptly.  He did not want to discuss what had happened any further, because he did not have all the facts.

"Okay. I understand," Harry said.  Then he added, "But it wasn't your fault either, sir. How could you know he would do what he did?"

"I have more experience than you do," answered the other.

"Where is Skull?" Harry asked then, looking about for the raven, who had been with Snape after the fall.

"He's gone back to my quarters to rest. Calling the thunderbird took a lot out of him."

"A thunderbird? What's that?"

Severus explained about the powerful Native American creature, an ally of ravens everywhere.  "Ravens are the Keepers of the Old Knowledge, that is how Skull knew to summon the thunderbird. But no spell or knowledge comes without cost.  He is exhausted, and while he would have preferred to stay beside me, I know he will rest better in the comfort of my quarters.  By the morning, he should be fine." The professor yawned, staring to feel the effects of the potions Pomfrey had given him.  He was beginning to drowse.

"I'm glad." Harry said sincerely.  Should he tell Snape of his decision about the guardianship now? The professor seemed relaxed and Harry had screwed up his courage for this moment.  He opened his mouth to speak, when he heard a soft snore coming from Snape's bed.  Drat! He closed his mouth and exhaled softly.  Then he rolled over on his stomach. Tomorrow would probably be a better time.  As he started to drift off, he recalled his missing watch, since he was used to glancing at it before he fell asleep, and felt its loss stab him anew.  He knew that was one thing Snape would be furious with him for, and rightly so.  Though how it had disappeared from his pocket was a mystery.  He closed his eyes and drifted off, dreaming of the thunderbird carrying him away, dangling from the chain of his missing watch to an unknown future.

The next morning, Poppy released Harry, saying he could return to Gryffindor Tower. Severus, however, would have to stay there for another day, postponing their trip to Gringotts till Sunday.  Harry regretted the delay, but knew that Severus needed the recovery time, and so didn't complain.  Most of the Gryffindors were happy that Harry had not been hurt and were amazed at the fact that Snape had saved him and there was also lots of speculation about what had actually happened at the match to cause such a disaster.

Harry told Hermione and Ron that the game had been disrupted by storm spirits. 

"Storm spirits? I've never heard of them," Hermione said, puzzled. "They're not in Fantastic Beasts."

"Not everything is in a book, Hermione," Ron pointed out. "But all I know about them is that they're really evil."

"It's too bad we can't research them in the library," Harry said wistfully.  He really missed being able to go and look up information on his own.  Then an idea came to him.  "Maybe we should ask Lena. Or Skullduggery."

"That's a brilliant idea!" Hermione said eagerly.  "Let's see where Lena is now."

So they all trooped down to the library and found Lena cataloguing some more volumes.  "Good morning!" she greeted.  "What brings you here so early on a Saturday?"

"Uh . . . we need some information," Harry began awkwardly.

"On storm spirits!" Hermione put in.

"Oh? Such as?"

"Where they come from," Ron added. "Do you have a book or something?"

Lena thought for a moment.  "I did have a volume about ghosts and spirits around here, but right now I don't know exactly where it is.  What I can tell you is that storm spirits are formed by forging the unquiet spirit of an evil doer with an astral wind. They often take the form of dogs or jackals. They are born of hatred and death and when they are summoned, that is what follows in their wake.  They are extremely hard to control and once unleashed will destroy all that they can until they are banished. I heard that a thunderbird was summoned to banish them, a fortunate thing since thunderbirds are natural enemies of storm spirits."

"That was Skull's doing," Harry informed the librarian.  "Professor Snape told me he called the thunderbird."

"Ah. Well, that doesn't really surprise me, since ravens are Keepers of the Old Ways and have knowledge beyond most familiars.  Or wizards. Professor Snape is very lucky to have been chosen by one."

"Why aren't their more raven familiars?" Hermione asked.

"It's a rare pairing, not one that everyone is suited to. Ravens are very independent birds and they don't obey anyone blindly, not even their wizard masters.  It is said that a raven chooses his witch or wizard based on need and magic. So Severus must need Skullduggery badly."

Harry thought of how alone the professor always seemed and supposed that Lena was probably correct. Snape did not seem to have any close friends except Skullduggery now.  And Harry. 

"Big surprise there," Ron muttered.

Harry frowned at him.  True, Snape might not be the nicest of teachers, but he didn't deserve Ron sniping at him.  "Do you know anything else about storm spirits, Lena?"

"Regrettably, no.  That is all I can remember off the top of my head." Lena told him.  "But I shall keep an eye out for the book about spirits, I know it's around here somewhere."

"Would you like us to help you catalogue the books?" Hermione volunteered.

"That would be most welcome. Thank you," Lena said, and gave them a box to sort through.  "Normally Aunt Irma and I would be working together on this, but she has gone to speak to the Headmaster about the funds the Ministry was supposed to send to help rebuild the library.  Apparently, they never arrived and might have been lost or misappropriated."

"That's terrible!" Harry exclaimed. "Can you get them back?"

"That's what Aunt Irma and Professor Dumbledore are trying to do.  They've been at the Ministry all morning." Lena replied, beginning to sort through another box.  She held up a book and tapped it with her wand. "Sort and shelve," she said aloud and the book received a library sticker upon its spine and flew over to the correct shelf, or if the shelf was not present, a box labeled accordingly. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had fun casting that small charm, which was simple enough for their beginning powers to manage, and spent two hours pleasantly assisting the young librarian. By lunch, Lena halted and said it was time to eat, and accompanied them down to the hall.  It had been an enjoyable experience, even though Harry didn't find the book on ghosts Lena had mentioned.

After lunch, he did some homework with Hermione, ignoring Ron's grumbling that he was friends with a bunch of bookworms, and thus making the redhead do his Charms essay as well.

Then Ron played Wizard Chess with Harry and Hermione read a novel she had brought from home.

All in all it was a pleasant Saturday, and when Harry went to visit Professor Snape before supper, he found the Potions Master looking quite well, feeding Skull bits of meat from his hand and stroking the glossy ebony feathers.

"Tomorrow we shall visit Gringotts," was the first thing the professor said when Harry opened his mouth.

Harry smiled.  "Hello, sir. You're feeling better then, sir?"

"I am much improved."

The boy smiled tentatively.  Then he took a deep breath.  "I'm glad you're feeling better because I . . . have something to tell you. I . . .I've been thinking and I've decided that . . . I want you to be my guardian.  Legally.  If you still want me." There! It was said.  He felt both relieved and terribly nervous. What if Snape had changed his mind?

"You are certain this is what you desire?" Severus queried, his heart doing a curious leap in response. 

"Yes.  Even if you hadn't saved my life before, my mum trusted you to do what's right.  You're the only one who has ever really . . .helped me before.  Or cared about me.  And I'd rather live with you and scrub cauldrons than live with the Dursleys.  Although I can't understand why you'd want to have me live with you . . .I mean, you don't really seem to like kids all that much."

Snape found his mouth quirking.  "I'll admit, I am hardly Dad of the Year material.  I find most children annoying because they don't follow directions and backtalk me, but I do not detest them.  As far as being your guardian goes, I shall do my best to act more like a parent than a teacher to you, and give you a home and a place you can feel safe in, both materially and emotionally. Will that suit you? We can discuss details later on."

"It'll suit me just fine," Harry said, happiness brimming in his eyes. Before he stopped to think, he impulsively hugged the Potions Master.

Snape was startled, but then he returned the hug awkwardly, figuring he had best get used to the occasional hug once in awhile.  Oddly enough, he found he didn't really mind the boy doing so, even if the last hug he had received had been from Lily, before Harry had ever been born.

"I can submit the papers tomorrow at the bank, they handle all official documents of this nature, since as your guardian, I shall have control of your vault until you are of age at seventeen." Snape told him once Harry had drawn away.  "We'll both need to sign in front of witnesses."

"Okay, professor." Harry said, then he looked up at the other and said, "Umm . . .should I still call you that?"

"You may. In private, you may use my given name, Severus, if you prefer."

"All right . . . sir. I mean . . . Severus." Harry agreed. Saying Severus instead of "sir" felt quite awkward, but Harry thought he would get used to it after a time.  He sensed that Snape's permitting him to address him by his name was a great privilege, and also an attempt at becoming more like a family.  Harry appreciated that gesture, but felt compelled to put some sort of honorific in front of it, since he had been raised to show respect to adults, even when he disliked them.  "Err . . .would you mind if I called you Uncle Severus, sir? It just seems more . . .err . . ."

"Proper? Comfortable?"

"Yeah. I mean, yes sir." Harry corrected himself, struggling to speak correctly, the way his guardian did.

"That would be fine." Severus acquiesced.  In a way, he preferred the title, since it showed that Harry was making an attempt to respect him as an adult and not treating him like a friend. He did not want to be too familiar, lest Harry start forgetting who was in charge.  Children who lost respect for parents and guardians were often trouble later on, and Severus wanted no endless battle over authority between them.   As Harry's new guardian, he set the rules, and he would make no bones about that.  "Now then, I believe it's time for supper, and you've skipped too many meals as it is, so you should hurry and go eat. I shall meet you in the Entrance Hall tomorrow morning at ten o'clock sharp. I trust you will be punctual."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, relived that Snape did not mention the watch.  He still felt sick at the thought of it.  "I'll be there right after breakfast."

"Good. Off with you now." Severus laid a hand upon his shoulder and gave it a pat.

Skullduggery cawed and flew onto Harry's shoulder.  "Welcome home, little brother," the raven purred, and gave the boy's ear a gentle nip, and rubbed his head against Harry's cheek.

Harry blushed at the raven's frankness and stroked Skull's chest. "Thanks, Skull.  I'll see you around."

"Don't forget your Nutrient Draft," reminded his guardian as Harry walked out of the Hospital Wing. Skullduggery fluttered from his shoulder and flew back to Snape, where he proceeded to fly rings about the professor, singing , "He ain't heavy, he's my brother."

"Skulduggery, for Merlin's sake!" groaned the potions professor.

Harry dashed from the room, muffling his laughter in his sleeve. One thing was sure, he would never be bored with Skull around! 

On the way to the hall, he passed Malfoy, who sneered and said, "What are you looking at, Potter?" He had a hand stuck in a pocket.

Harry just ignored him. He was in too good of a mood to get into a quarrel with Malfoy today.  Then he considered how to break the news to his friends.  Perhaps he ought to wait until they were in private, like working in the library, for him to broach the subject?  He had a feeling that Ron, especially, would be shocked at his choice. Then he wondered how his aunt and uncle would react to the news and suspected they'd throw a celebration once they learned their freaky nephew was finally off their hands.

HPSSHPSSHP

Harry rushed through his breakfast the next morning, causing Hermione to frown at him sternly.  "Harry, slow down, you'll choke."

"Yes, Mum," he quipped.

Ron snickered, spraying crumbs all over.  "You tell her, mate. Girls! Always on at you for something."

Hermione gave him a sour look.  "Boys! You both have the table manners of barbarians! Didn't your mother teach you not to chew with your mouth open, Ron?"

Ron shrugged. "Probably, but I forgot."

"I can see that," Hermione said disgustedly.  "Harry, why are you in such a rush?"

"Uh . . .gotta meet Professor Snape in the Entrance Hall soon. We're going to Gringotts."

"Really?" Hermione looked interested.

Ron coughed and nearly spewed pumpkin juice all over. Harry swatted him on the back.  "Snape's taking you to Gringotts? Why him?"

"Because he was going over to Diagon Alley and I need an adult to get there so . . ." Harry explained, trying to stick as close to the truth as possible.  If Ron reacted like this when Snape was simply accompanying him somewhere, Harry shuddered to think what the other boy's reaction would be upon learning that Snape was now his legal guardian. He'd probably pass out.  Like he did before.  He finished eating his scrambled eggs and chives and ham.  "Any way, I have to run.  Snape will have fits if I'm not there on time."

Hermione gave him a strange look.  "But Harry, it's only quarter to ten. You have fifteen minutes still." She pointed at the clock hanging over the doors.

"Oh. Right." Harry felt sheepish and stupid. He really was lost without the pocketwatch. "Uh . . .Ron, you haven't seen my watch lying about anywhere in the tower, have you?"

"No. Why?"

"Because I . . .can't find it."

"When did you have it last?" asked Hermione.

"Just before the Quidditch match, I thought I put it inside my locker, but when I went to look after it was missing.  I couldn't find it anywhere."

"Hmmm . . .did you check all your pockets?"

"Yes."

"Maybe somebody nicked it," Ron suggested.

"Ron, stealing is forbidden here!" Hermione chided. "It's in the Hogwarts Rules and Regulations."

"So's dueling, but kids still try it," Ron said. "I'll bet somebody nicked it, Harry."

"How would they get into his locker?" Hermione objected.

Ron waved his wand under her nose.  "Duh! Magic, of course!"

"But aren't the lockers enchanted to prevent anyone using magic on them?"

"Not really. On account of that would take a lot of energy to renew and students don't usually have anything valuable on them," Ron told her. "Least that's what Fred and George told me."

"Oh, dear."

Harry looked glum.  "Well, it's gone now. I don't know how it happened but it's gone."

"Maybe you ought to report it to McGonagall or Dumbledore," Hermione suggested.  "Perhaps they can find it with magic. You could say it was lost, possibly stolen."

Harry just nodded.  That made sense, but he feared that Snape would learn of it and think Harry was irresponsible and take the watch back.  It was a gift. You don't take gifts back, his conscience argued.  He looked up at the clock.  "Nearly ten. I'll see you later."

"Harry, why do you need to go to Gringotts?" asked Ron curiously.

"To get money to donate to the library," he answered, then he snatched up his robes and shrugged into them, he hated eating with them on, the sleeves tended to drag in his plate.  After one last wave, Harry raced from the hall. 

He skidded to a halt just as Snape was emerging from the dungeons, managing not to slam into the tall wizard by the skin of his teeth. "Oops! Sorry, sir." He apologized, tossing his hair out of his eyes.

"In a bit of a hurry, are you?" the professor queried.  "Gringotts isn't going anywhere."

Harry blushed and looked at his shoes. 

"Very well. Come on, boy, don't dawdle." Putting a hand upon his shoulder, Severus urged his ward out of the castle. 

As the doors swung shut, Malfoy, heading past the doors, caught a glimpse of his Head ushering Potter out of them. Draco smirked. Ha! Looked like Potter had earned himself detention on a Sunday morning.  Draco pondered where Snape might be taking Potter for detention. The greenhouse, to pick some nasty smelling herbs? Hagrid's hut, to mulch the pumpkins with dragon dung? Or maybe even into the Forbidden Forest, to snag the hair of a banshee or something even creepier?

His mind aglow with possibilities, Malfoy started to whistle as he entered the Great Hall.  As he did so, he encountered Granger and Weasley leaving.  His lip curled and he would have made a comment about Weasley hoarding food since he was too poor to afford snacks and meals at the same time, but then he overheard Weasley telling Granger that he couldn't believe Snape was taking Potter to Gringotts.

Malfoy did a doubletake. Huh? Why by Merlin's starry robe would Professor Snape be taking Potter to Gringotts?! Draco chewed his lower lip, his eyes narrowed. Maybe Potter owed Snape money? The Slytherin shrugged as he approached his House table.  He would scout around later and see what he could pick up about Potter owing Snape money or whatever.  Right now he was hungry and wanted to eat and then go flying, the perfect activity for a sunny Sunday.

As Harry and Severus crossed the grounds, Skullduggery flew down and landed upon Snape's shoulder.  "Going somewhere with lots of gold, Harry?" croaked the raven, bobbing his head at the boy.

"Gringotts," Harry replied, trying hard to keep up with Severus' long stride.

"Goblins rule there. Shrewd, sharp, and with a nasty bite," recited Skull casually, preening himself.  "But with lots of shiny things."

"Skullduggery, I want you to promise you will stay with me and no snatching anything from the goblins," Severus said sternly. "You know how they are about their gold."

"Aww, Sev! Not even a Knut?" whined the familiar.

"No. Your word, or else you can spend the morning in Hagrid's pumpkin patch, scaring away the garden gnomes and doxies."

The raven clicked his beak several times before agreeing.

"He likes shiny things?" Harry chuckled.

"Of course. He's a bird, and ravens are hoarders of shiny anything, whether it be jewels or tin foil.  Last time he came with me to Gringotts, he stole an earring right out of a goblin's ear and made them chase him all over the lobby, the rascal. I'm lucky they didn't terminate my account."

Skull made a disparaging noise. "Tchaa! Goblins. No sense of humor."

"You mean, no tolerance for thievery," stressed the Potions Master.

"'Twasn't thievery," Skull mimicked his master's voice. "A trade. My feather for the golden bauble."

"You think your feathers are worth gold?" Harry laughed.

Skull hopped onto his shoulder and began preening Harry's hair. "There is much one can do with a raven feather, youngling. Very magical they are."

"They are?"

"In certain potions and rituals," Severus confirmed.  "But goblins aren't wizards and would have no use for raven feathers."

"Humph! They could sell them!" croaked the raven.

Once they had reached Hogsmeade, Severus used the fireplace at the tavern called The Hogshead, run by Aberforth Dumbledore, to Floo to Diagon Alley.  After brushing off Harry and himself, Snape and his ward stepped out of the fireplace and walked out the door of The Leaky Cauldron.  Luckily there were few patrons at this time in the pub, so Harry wasn't recognized.

The bank was the first place Harry had gone to previously, and it was the same now . . .except that he knew what to expect now.  Together, they mounted the steps and entered Gringotts.  The queue for the goblin teller was not so long, it simply felt that way to Harry's stressed nerves.  All week long he had waited for this day and now that it was here he couldn't bear to wait another minute.

Severus finally approached the teller and spoke in a soft voice. "Mr. Potter here wishes to make a withdrawal on his account.  After that he also wishes to put his signature to a legal document pertaining to a guardianship." That last was spoken so softly that the goblin strained to hear it.

"Yes, indeed.  Do you have your key, Mr. Potter?"

Harry took the key from about his neck and handed it to the goblin.

"Very good, sir. Follow me."

As before, Harry and Snape were taken deep into the bowels of the earth via a magical cart and Harry withdrew one hundred Galleons and fifty Sickles to donate to the library of Hogwarts.

"That is quite a sum, Harry. Are you certain you wish to give that much?"

"Yes. I love the library and want it to be finished."

"Very well." Snape cast a Shrinking Charm over the bag Harry held and then tucked it away in his robe pocket. 

The goblin, Yellowfang, then brought them back to the upper levels so they could enter a sparsely furnished room and have Magnus Grimtooth witness the signing of the guardianship papers by both Harry and Severus, as well as adding his own to it.

Once all the signatures had been added, the parchment glowed with red light and tendrils shot out and wrapped about Snape's and Harry's wrists, binding them together. They then vanished.

"'Tis done, then. A good binding contract." Magnus said in approval, giving them a nod. "You are now guardian and ward. Congratulations to you both."

"Thank you, Magnus," Severus said, bowing courteously.  "Harry, would you mind waiting here for a moment? I have a parcel to pick up for the Headmaster.  Skullduggery will stay with you." Severus handed his familiar to Harry, who had been unusually well-behaved all this time.  "Magnus, here is the key to the vault I need," Snape showed him a large ornate key.

"Come, Professor Snape," the goblin beckoned him out of the room.

Harry went and sat down in one of the ladder-back chairs, a happy smile spreading across his face. Finally he had a place to call home, and someone who cared if he lived or died. 

"Are you happy, Harry?" asked Skull, peering into Harry's eyes.

"Yes, I'm very happy. Maybe we could go and have an ice cream later to celebrate? D'you think Uncle Severus would be okay with that?"

"Certainly. He loves butter pecan. My favorite is Rocky Road. Have you a favorite?"

"Uh . . .I like them all," Harry said quickly, not wanting to admit that he had only tasted ice cream once or twice before and didn't really have a favorite.

"Then you shall have a hard time choosing. Fortescue's has over a hundred combinations."

Harry whistled in shock. Then he asked Skull if he could name some flavors and the raven began going down the list.

While his ward and familiar were discussing ice cream, Snape was retrieving a very important item from the vault.  He had told Dumbledore to remove it before this, but the old man had insisted it was safer here for the time being, while the gauntlet was being created.  Now that it was finished, Dumbledore had asked Severus to bring the special parcel to him.

Snape tucked the object inside his sleeve and took the cart back up and met Harry in Magnus' office.  "Potter, are you ready? We shouldn't linger."

Harry stood up. "Yes, sir. Uncle Severus? May we go for an ice cream? Please?"

Severus hesitated, then seeing the joy in the boy's eyes. "Very well, I suppose that would be all right."

Harry let out a whoop and raced out the door into the lobby.

Just as the screams began and several alarms began to sound.

Harry froze.  "Uncle Severus, what's going on?"

Severus' hand fastened upon Harry like a claw. "I don't know. That alarm only sounds if there's been a break-in. Stay close to me."

The alarm was making poor Harry's ears hurt and Skull screeched loudly at the terrible din.

People were running to and fro, yelling and leaving the building without making a transaction.  Goblins rushed grimly about, some wearing armor, others with staves.  "What will they do if they catch the person stealing? Will they go to jail?"

"That is wizard justice, not goblin. The goblins own the bank and take a dim view of thieves.  If they catch the intruder, they will kill him.  Almost positive." Severus said, his wand out.

There came a loud bang and smoke billowed up from the vault entrance. 

A large shadowy figure advanced across the lobby, wand pointed at the customers, stripping them of all their valuables.  Across the hall, yet another was doing the same.

Snape glanced about, trying to decide whether or not to make a run for it. Like Hogwarts, Gringotts had Anti-Apparition wards up.  He surreptitiously reached inside a pocket and hissed, "Skullduggery, to me."

The raven flew onto Snape's wrist, black claws gripping gently. "You called, my captain?"

"Take this back to the school. Deliver it only to the Headmaster. Fly!"

Skullduggery took the parcel in one foot while Severus launched him from his wrist.

The raven flew high above the combatants, avoiding all the chaos. In moments he had flown through the doors  and was winging his way back to the school.

One of the dark robed figures turned and spotted the raven and sent bolts of magic after the bird.

Harry gasped and cried out in anger, but he needn't have worried.

Skullduggery agilely avoided the bolts and they slammed into the wall and arched doorway.  The raven insolently flipped his  tail at his attackers before soaring high into the sky with the secret parcel.

Snape's grip tightened almost painfully upon Harry's shoulder. The black clad figures were nearly upon them, though they hadn't spotted them yet, standing as they were half in and out of the entrance to the lobby on the right hand side.  "Not a sound," hissed the professor.  Then he spun Harry about and ushered him back down the corridor. 

Together they took refuge in the now dimly lit corridor, until they reached the small office they'd occupied before. 

"Under the desk. Quickly!" Snape ordered, and Harry crawled beneath the large oak desk, hidden completely from view. 

Snape took up sentry before it, wand out, and waited.

Soon the alarms were accompanied by roars, as of a great beast, and then cries of pain. 

Still Snape did not move.

Harry, curled up under the desk was both scared and curious. What was happening to the bank robbers? Had the goblins unleashed some terrible creature upon them? And what had they been after? He put his head against his knees and waited, his breath coming in harsh pants.

Finally the klaxon died away and the so did the roaring. 

Severus waited a full minute before calling Harry to come out.

Just as Harry emerged from under the desk, the door to the office opened.

Severus moved like lightning unleashed, his wand twirling in a complex countercharm that would repel many an offensive spell thrown at him or his ward. A web of bright silver surrounded him and Harry encasing them in a protective weave of iridescent light.

Only to see Magnus' squat form enter the office.  He held up both hands as a gesture of peace.  "Here now, Mr. Snape. It's only me. No need to be alarmed. We had a bit of an incident, some fool thief tried to burgle Vault  Number  713. A few accomplices tried to hold up some of our customers, but thankfully no one was hurt."

"What happened to the burglars?" asked Harry, somewhat breathlessly. 

Magnus smiled, an evil little smile. "Let us just say , young man, that they are no longer part of this world."

Upon hearing that, Snape banished his web, and then they bid Magnus good day.

Once out on the street, where many people were milling about and talking excitedly about the break-in, and reporters from The Daily Prophet were questioning people who had been inside, Snape hurried Harry down the stairs and away from the scene of the crime.  Or almost crime.

When they were safely lost in a large crowd, Harry looked up at Severus and said, "Holy crap! We were almost in the middle of a robbery! That's so wicked!"

Severus managed to paint a scowl on his face just in time, though in truth Potter's reaction was that of a typical eleven-year-old, more excited than fearful.  "Language, Harry.  What just occurred did not frighten you at all?"

"Sorry.  Well, I was scared, but only for a little.  You had it under control, Uncle Severus. What was that spell you cast over us? Would it have blown those burglars to smithereens?"

"In essence, yes it would have, as well as absorbing any magic they threw at us."

"Neat! Could you teach me it someday?"

"Yes, when you are of sufficient maturity and magical ability.  Considering the amount of trouble you attract, Harry, that spell will be one of the most useful you shall ever learn."

"Does it have a name?"

"It does. It is called a Web of Dissolution, for all but the Killing Curse dissolves under that charm.  It is not a spell anyone can cast, only the most powerful can manage the incantation and the power conjured. But I believe you are one of the few who may manage to do so.  If you study hard and apply yourself."

"What book  is it in?"

"No book in your curriculum," replied Snape.  "It is a spell invented by circumstance. By a very powerful witch whose Mastery of Charms was unparalleled, and her best friend, as a defense against multiple attacks by dark wizards."

"Wow! You must have known them, right?"

"Yes. In a manner of speaking.  You see, I was part inventor of that charm.  The other was your mother, Lily."

"Wicked!" Harry repeated and the look he flashed his guardian was one of awe.  Snape was truly brilliant. 

Severus managed a small smile, though recalling Lily still stung.  "I believe, and mind I am not sure my hunch is correct, but I believe that she used some form of the web to protect you when You-Know-Who came to Godric's Hollow.  I may be wrong, the Headmaster thinks otherwise, but either way the web is still a powerful charm against dark spells, or any spell that seeks to harm you, since spells do not always have to be dark in order to hurt."

Suddenly, Harry heard his stomach rumble.

"It would seem as though you worked up an appetite." Snape remarked wryly.

"Uh . . . I guess so." Harry admitted. "Could we go and get some ice cream?" He shot a pleading look towards Fortescue's. 

"It is nearing lunch, why don't we find ourselves a spot at one of the café's nearby and have a sandwich before the ice cream?"

"All right." Harry agreed, never one to turn down an offer of food.  They headed towards a small table with a green and silver umbrella and as soon as they were seated, a parchment menu appeared upon the table in front of them.  Harry waited until Severus had picked his up before examining it. He wondered if Snape had a limit on how much he could spend for lunch and therefore Harry could only get a cold salad plate or a diet fruit cup? He was about to ask when Snape told him to order whatever he liked.

Harry goggled. He could actually choose.  He spent several minutes perusing the menu before finally settling upon a Paddington burger and chips.  It wasn't too expensive and Harry loved hamburgers. 

The food arrived in a few minutes, piping hot and inbetween juicy onion-filled bites of his burger, Harry asked Snape more questions about Lily.

Severus had ordered a hot roast beef on a toasted bun with au jus, and he answered Harry as best he could while eating bites of the tender beef and crusty bread dipped in gravy.  He was relieved that Harry had the sense not to speak of the mysterious package out in public, though he could see the curiosity simmering in the green eyes over it.  He is sure to pepper me with questions about it once we return to school.

"So . . .Mum liked potions and charms and was great at both. Did you have a favorite subject besides potions? And why do you like potions so much?"

"Why do I like potions so much?" Severus mused. "That is like asking an artist why he loves to paint, or an author why she loves words.  I just do.  It is born in me, and is what I do best.  But there was another subject I excelled at, though potions will ever be my first love."

"What was it?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh! I can see why you'd be an ace at that.  What did my dad do well in?"

"Transfiguration and Defense. Also getting into trouble.  He was almost always in detention."

Harry accepted that without blinking.  For some reason that did not surprise him. 

There was plenty more Snape could have told James' son about his father, but he chose not to speak of it then, recalling those memories would curdle his stomach, and he had no wish to end this day with an upset stomach.  After settling the bill, Severus took Harry to Fortescue's, where they each had a small sundae. 

Harry had a scrumptious fudge silk swirl with nuts, hot chocolate sauce, and loads of whipped cream, plus a cherry.

Severus ordered a butter pecan with a drizzle of caramel and a small amount of whipped cream and extra nuts.

They ate slowly, savoring the sweet, as only those who have grown up without many can.

Harry set down his spoon, his stomach pleasantly full, and gave Severus a warm smile.  "Thank you for everything, Uncle Severus. This was the best lunch I've ever had."

"You are most welcome, Harry." One long-fingered hand reached out and tousled his hair.  "I find having a meal here in private is worth ten in the Great Hall. Now, I have one more stop to make at the cauldron shop and the apothecary before we return to Hogwarts."

Harry eagerly followed him. He didn't want the outing to end. 

But of course it did, and they Flooed back to Hogsmeade some two and a half hours later. As the two walked up the path towards the school, Harry asked Snape in a whisper what he had given Skullduggery to carry back to the school.

Severus arched an eyebrow and replied, "That, child, is between me and the Headmaster.  Do not meddle in the affairs of your teachers, Mr. Potter. There are things it is not safe for you to know."

Harry looked crestfallen. He had overstepped his bounds.  "Sorry, sir. I just figured . . . never mind."

Snape caught Harry's chin in his hand, lifting it until the boy was facing him. "Understand, what I keep from you is knowledge you are not ready for yet.  It is not because I enjoy being secretive and keeping you in the dark, or that I don't trust you.  There are things too dangerous for you to know, and such knowledge could only hurt you. What you do not know cannot be coerced out of you. So I shall keep my silence.  For now. Someday, when you are able to protect yourself better and guard your mind, I shall tell you them."

Harry was disappointed, but he understood why Snape would not reveal his secret package.  He thought about trying to wheedle it out of the tall professor, but then decided against it. Snape had already treated him much better than the Dursleys ever had and he did not want to ruin the time they had spent together by making Severus angry.  He knew he ought to be grateful the secretive man had explained as much as he had.  So he reigned in his insatiable curiosity and stopped asking questions.  Perhaps he could figure out Snape's secret on his own.

Once they had reached the castle, they parted ways, for Severus had to speak with Albus about the parcel Skullduggery had delivered.  Before he did so, however, the Potions Master instructed his ward to come to his quarters around eight o'clock in the evening.  "I have something to show you, a surprise which I think you will like better than knowing what the mysterious package is."

"I'll be there, sir." Harry promised.  This day just kept getting better and better.

Snape swept away to the gargoyle statue and Dumbledore, while Harry went up to Gryffindor Tower to find Hermione and Ron and tell them about his adventures in Diagon Alley and give Hermione the donation for the library.

"Say what?" Ron exclaimed loudly, nearly choking upon the treacle fudge he was eating. "There was a break-in at Gringotts?" His eyes were practically falling from his head as he spoke those words.

"How terrible!" Hermione cried. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Yeah, the robbers," Harry told her.

"Did they get arrested?" the girl asked. "Did you get to see the police—I think they're called Aurors, right?—in action?"

"Umm . . .no." Harry began.

"Hermione, if there's a breach of security at Gringotts, the goblins handle it," Ron interrupted. "And I've heard they take no prisoners." He made a slashing motion across his throat.

Hermione looked alarmed. But then she regained her composure. "Ron, come on. You're just putting me on. Surely they wouldn't just . . . kill a thief. Without a trial?"

"You don't know the goblins, girl. Bloodthirsty and hard as iron and they hate anyone who steals their gold . . . or anyone else's." Ron stated. "Right, Harry?"

Hermione turned to look at her other friend. To her shock, Harry nodded.

"Yes, that's true. Professor Snape even said so. And after it was over, and Magnus came back, he told me that the thieves were gone from this earth and you know what that means."

"Yup. Ears and finger stew for dinner at his house tonight." Ron remarked, with a wicked smirk.

"Ron, that's sick!"

"But probably true," the other shrugged. "Goblins believe that eating the flesh of their enemies gives them power over them. At least that's what my brother Bill told me, and he should know, he works with them. He's a Cursebreaker."

"That sounds like a cool job," Harry said, still trying to figure what the mysterious package was that Snape had retrieved for Dumbledore. What could the Headmaster have put in the bank vault if noy money?

"I wonder what the thieves were after? Harry, do you know?" asked Hermione.

"Money? Jewels?" he said. "They were snitching things from people in the lobby."

But Hermione frowned. "They could've done that outside the bank. Pickpockets work best in crowds. Why risk getting caught inside the bank? They must have been after something else."

Ron gave her an astonished glance. "When did you get to be an expert on criminals, Hermione? Is there something you're not telling us?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "Actually, Ron, there is. I'm really the daughter of an underworld crime boss and my daddy wants me to learn magic so I can help him in his illegal activities."

"Merlin, Hermione! You aren't going to?"

Harry burst out laughing. "Ron, you idiot! You really believed that?"

Ron went red as he suddenly realized how foolish he had been. "Well . . . you never know, Harry. She's smart enough to be a criminal mastermind."

Hermione didn't know whether to be pleased or insulted by that statement. She continued the original thread of her discussion. "There must have been something in Gringotts that they wanted badly. Enough to risk death for it."

"Yes, I think so too," Harry added. Did he dare to reveal Snape's mission to his friends? "Maybe it's some kind of magical artifact or something? Something very powerful or expensive?"

"That makes sense," Hermione agreed. "Did they try to break into a vault?"

"I think so. There was more than one of them. We saw two pinching stuff off people in the lobby, but I think there were more trying to steal from a vault too."

By then several other students had overheard their conversation and word quickly spread about the break-in. Most students were rather shocked that anyone could be stupid enough to try and rob Gringotts.

"It's like, nearly impossible to rob the bank. Goblin security is the best ever," Percy boasted.

"I'll bet the stupid saps learned the error of their ways soon enough," said Angelina Johnson. "Goblins show no mercy to those who break their laws."

There were murmurs of agreement from almost every witch and wizard present in the common room.

While the others were busy discussing the robbery. Harry dragged his friends into a semi-private alcove and whispered, "There's something I haven't told you yet. But before I do, I need you to swear you'll never tell about this, not for love or money."

"What is it? You can trust us, mate."

"Promise first." Harry insisted.

Both of them did.

"Good. Listen." He told about Snape retrieving a mysterious package for the Headmaster and sending it away with Skull before the robbery escalated. "It has to be something really important, other wise he wouldn't risk Skull like that."

"What could it be? A book?" Hermione wondered.

"Books belong in a library, Hermione." Ron said dismissively.

"What if they're too powerful to just stick in a library?" Harry argued. "What if they've got knowledge that could mean life or death for some people?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, Ron. Honestly, do you think I know everything?' she said, exasperated.

"No, but you sure do act like it sometimes."

Hermione glared at him. "What else did you want to tell us, Harry?"

Harry hesitated, then took a deep breath. "Errr . . .Professor Snape's my guardian now."

Ron gasped and started coughing so badly that Hermione pounded him on the back. "Are you bleeding cracked?"

"How did it happen?" Hermione wanted to know.

Harry told them. "Soon everybody will know, but right now I want to keep it a secret."

"Yeah, I don't blame you. Better watch out, mate. You might end up as potion ingredients if you make Snape mad."

Hermione shot the redhead a look of irritation. "Well, if Harry's happy about it, then so am I." She said quietly. "I wonder what sort of magical object was removed from there? How big was the package, Harry?"

"Uh, only about this big," he held out his hands to show a smallish package.

Hermione nibbled the end of her quill thoughtfully. Harry could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

Ron was still going on about Snape. "Mate, are you sure you trust the greasy cauldron stirrer?"

"Yes, Ron. He saved my life twice and he gave me his word that nothing would ever hurt me ever again. My relatives, they don't care at all about me. They'll be happy I'm not going to be living with them any more." Then he recalled the other thing he had gone to Gringotts for. "Oh, I almost forgot! Here, Hermione. Here's my contribution to the library fund." He pulled out a large sack of Galleons and Sickles and handed it to the witch.

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Oh, Harry! This is . . . it's very generous of you. Are you sure you can afford it?"

"Yes. My parents left me enough money to live on," Harry answered, knowing he was now well off. "The library needs to be restored, and if gold is what it takes, then you've got it."

"Madam Pince is going to be overjoyed." Hermione said excitedly, tucking the bag into her satchel. "I'm going to bring it to her straight away and then I have to do some homework."

"Right. What time is it?" asked Harry, glancing down at his pocket, where the watch used to be.

"Nearly eight, why?" asked Ron. "It's too early to go to sleep. How about playing some Wizard Chess?"

But Harry shook his head. "Can't. Maybe later though. I've got to get to the dungeons."

"Why? Snape leave you some cauldrons to scrub as a welcome home present?" Ron asked sarcastically.

"No, but he wants to show me something. A surprise."

"Like what? A shrunken kobold head? Last year's dead bat?"

"Knock it off!" Harry snapped. "He's been good to me, Ron. So stop being an ass, okay?"

Ron looked at his friend incredulously. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"Yes. Now keep your mouth off him." Harry rose to his feet and slung his bag over his shoulder. "See you later."

Ron just nodded dumbly. Things had certainly changed from the beginning of term. His mind still reeling from the fact that Snape was Harry's guardian, Ron pulled out a Quidditch magazine and began to read.

Hermione and Harry left the common room together, but soon parted ways, Harry to go down to the dungeons, and Hermione to deliver Harry's donation to Madam Pince.

Hermione practically skipped up the corridor. She could picture the library, restored to it's former glory, with shiny new wood paneling and brand new shelves and lights and all the books neatly labeled and categorized and comfortable chairs and study carrels.

While Hermione had visions of a book lover's paradise dancing in her head, Harry made his way to Snape's quarters, one hand stuck in the pocket of his robe, where his watch used to rest. He often played with it, rolling it back and forth between his fingers, and he hadn't realized how much it had become a habit until it was no longer there.

Harry bit his lip unhappily. He prayed Snape wouldn't bring up the watch any time soon. Harry didn't want to have to admit he had been so careless with the precious heirloom, and wished he knew where to begin looking for it. Then he recalled Skullduggery's penchant for shiny objects, and wondered if the raven might know where it was . . . or perhaps had picked it up if it had fallen out of his pocket? But Harry was certain he had put it in his locker the day of the Quidditch match. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask the sharp-eyed bird about it. In private.

Thankfully, the trip down to the dungeons was uneventful, and he paused beside Snape's door and knocked softly. "Professor, it's me, Harry."

"Enter, Mr. Potter," came the silky voice.

The door swung open and Harry stepped inside. The door swung to, but managed to catch a fold of Harry's school robe. Harry was jerked to a stop and turned to look at what had dragged him backwards. "Oh. Caught my robe," he muttered, opening the door and pulling the fabric inside. He started to shut the door, only to catch a glimpse of Malfoy and his friends standing a few feet away.

Malfoy's eyes widened, then he smirked. "In trouble again, Potty? Better watch it, get too many detentions and the professor will use the paddle to hammer some discipline into your sorry arse."

"Bite me, Malfoy," Harry growled, then shut the door in the other boy's face. Malfoy must really think I'm stupid, to fall for that. Paddle, right! This isn't reform school. He turned about to see Severus sitting calmly on a silvery-gray plush sofa, sipping a cup of tea.

The Potions Master was not wearing his usual severe black attire, but was instead in a pair of comfortable black trousers and a green sleeved shirt which was open at the collar. The stone floor was covered in a thick rug with geometrical patterns woven into it in various colors. A fire crackled cheerily upon the hearth and upon the mantle, a mahogany clock with brass hands struck the hour. The fireplace was flanked by huge bookshelves with glass doors, crammed full of volumes on the right hand side and the other had many vials of potions, as well a statue of a midnight stallion with a crescent moon on his brow rearing. The statue looked extremely lifelike, and Harry gazed at it, half expecting it to burst from the cabinet , pawing and snorting into reality.

Harry's gaze fell next upon the low table in front of the couch, which was carved of fine cherrywood, it resembled a Chinese tea table, and had a tea set resting upon it, a fine silver service, with a serpent-handled tea pot and a sugar bowl and creamer with a fancy crest upon it of a coiled snake with a crown upon it. The cups matched, and so did the spoons. Steam rose from the teapot and coiled in the air.

Curious, Harry approached and picked up a spoon before he could think better of it, examining the crest.

"Another family heirloom," Severus informed his ward. "My mother was a Prince, of a very old family, descended from House Ambrosius, which was Merlin's family, and the House of Pendragon. The crest represents the wise serpent, the keeper of secrets and magic. The crown represents royalty, since the founding mother of the Prince line was Guinevere's and Arthur's daughter, Gwyneth Pendragon."

Harry sat down at Snape's invitation next to him, still holding the spoon. "So you're like royalty?"

"Once, but no more. The Prince line has deteriorated since those days, but long ago we were considered the blue bloods of the wizarding world. " Severus said dryly.

"But wasn't Arthur King of Britain? I thought he didn't have any kids."

"He was, and he didn't have a legitimate male heir, only a daughter, who abdicated her right to rule when she married the son of Merlin, a young man named Mathonwy, or Math for short. It was a match that was not planned by either of their parents, but once the two bound themselves together, it was impossible to break."

"Math? Like Math in the Welsh legends, the great wizard?" Harry clarified.

"The same. Much of Muggle legend and myths has its basis in fact in our world." Severus clarified. He pointed to the inscription beneath the crest upon the teapot. "Tendo quod disco. To strive and to learn. Thus runs the motto of my House. To my ancestors, nothing was so important as knowledge—of magic, of human nature, they were scholars and rulers, and once revered as masters of truth and wisdom. It is a motto I try and live up to. Tea?"

"What kind is it?"

"Oolong," answered Snape, pouring some in a cup for his ward.

Harry took it and stirred in some sugar. He took a sip and found it very tasty. "It's good."

"I have always enjoyed it." His professor said. He reached for a long green leather bound album lying on his opposite side. "You mentioned once before that you wished you had more pictures of your mother. I recently recalled having this, tucked away in a box in a trunk." He handed it to Harry.

Harry opened it, and saw that it was full of pictures of Lily. Lily as a child, swinging through the air, her face shining with laughter. Lily with her arm about a skinny dark-haired waif that Harry recognized as Severus. Another of Lily sitting among a field of flowers, the tip of her finger glowing with ambient magical energy.

Some were of Lily in her school uniform, grinning into the camera. There were several of Lily and Severus together, studying, brewing potions. Some of the pictures moved, and waved, others were ordinary photos.

Harry stared at them hungrily, trying desperately to assimilate the mother he barely recalled into his memories. His finger traced her profile, observing how her hair wasn't really a bright red, but a deep fire-touched auburn, like the last glowing embers of a banked fire. And her eyes—they were so alive, so full of joy, so brilliantly green—they made him smile and at the same time brought a sheen of tears to his eyes. He blinked them away and said reverently, "Thank you, Severus. It's . . .I can't even begin to tell you how much I . . . just to see her like this . . ."

"I am glad you like it. There are many memories here for me, and often looking at these pictures has reminded me of a time when I was young and happy. Most of my good memories, both at school and at home, come from your mother. Lily was very . . . special to me," Severus said quietly. She had been the love of his life, but he knew he couldn't tell her son that. Not yet. He was too young to understand the depth of Severus' feelings for Lily, and how it had shaped the Potions Master.

"Was this . . . my surprise?"

"Part of it." Severus answered. "The other . . . as your new guardian, it is my duty to provide you with a decent home, a place that you can feel safe and secure. So I have decided to craft a room for you. You may assist me by picking out furniture and fabrics and that sort of thing. You could sleep here on the holidays and some weekends if you chose, as I often stay at school over break to brew for the next term." And also because he disliked spending the entire holiday alone, though he would have rather been drawn and quartered than admit that to anyone. "Would that be acceptable to you, Harry?"

"My own room?" Harry repeated, somewhat dazedly. "I . . . never had a room of my own. Dudley had two rooms, but I only had the cupboard."

Severus' mouth tightened. "Your relatives were imbeciles, please do not class me with them. Everyone deserves a room of one's own. I value my privacy highly, as I'm sure you do yours. If you would like, we can shop for some things next weekend, I should be free then."

"That would be great. Thanks, Severus." Harry gave him a smile that lit up his whole face, and reminded Snape more than a little of Lily.

"Good." The Potions Master tapped his chin thoughtfully. "There was something else I wished to tell you . . . ah, yes. Madam Pomfrey wishes you to come to the Hospital Wing tomorrow morning so she can give you a few vaccinations. It seems you have missed getting inoculated against some wizarding illnesses, such as dragon pox. So be at the infirmary at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

Harry made a face. "I hate shots. Do I really need them?"

Severus eyed his charge sternly. "Do I really need to answer that question?"

"No. But . . ."

"If you behave, I'll give you a lolly after," teased Snape.

Harry flushed. Now Snape thought he was a big baby, whining over a few shots. "Fine, sir. I'll be there."

Severus frowned. "Is there a reason you dislike vaccinations so much?"

"No doctor I ever had could give them without hurting me a lot." Harry admitted. "And I always seemed to get sick or develop some kind of rash whenever I got one."

"Hmm. It could be that your magic reacted badly to Muggle vaccines. Sometimes a child can be overly sensitive to certain things. But these are magical vaccines, Harry, and Madam Pomfrey knows how to administer them with a minimum of pain. However, if it would make you feel better, I can accompany you."

"You think I'm a wimp, don't you?" Harry accused suddenly.

"Fears ought to be faced," Severus answered.

"I'll be okay," Harry said, declining the offer.

Snape nodded, but secretly decided he would be in the infirmary anyway, just in case.

"Where's Skull?" Harry changed the subject, only then realizing the raven was not around.

"He is off flying about somewhere. He does not usually remain in my quarters all evening, and is free to come and go as he chooses." Severus told him.

"Oh. Will he be back soon?"

"I am not sure. Why?"

"No reason. I just like talking to him, that's all." Harry hedged.

The clock chimed nine o'clock.

"It's getting late and I assume you have homework to do?" Severus arched an eyebrow at Harry.

"Yes, I have some Charms homework to finish. And some History of Magic."

"Why don't you get started on them?"

So Harry pulled out his books from his bag and started, though he really wanted to go and search for Skullduggery. By the time he was done, he was yawning and sleepy, and ready for bed.

"Go to bed, Harry," Severus said, shaking him awake, he had dozed off over his quill.

Harry blinked and quickly put away his quill and notebooks. Then he walked towards the door, pausing before he left. "Severus, are you going to tell people that you're my guardian?"

To his surprise, Severus nodded. "Yes. We have no reason to hide it."

"Okay," Harry mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Take the album, Harry. It's a poor substitute for her, but it's the best I can do," Severus told him, handing Harry the precious object.

Harry cradled it close and thanked Snape again. He bid goodnight to Severus, then walked out the door.

He was just in time to see Malfoy ducking around the corner. Harry froze, wondering if the Slytherin was planning an ambush. Spying little ferret! But he made himself walk down the corridor as if nothing were the matter. After all, Malfoy was forbidden to hex him.

Draco watched Harry leave, his fists clenched. Unknown to either Harry or Severus, Draco had overheard the last part of their conversation, since Harry had the door partially opened as he had been speaking. Malfoy had been lurking in the corridor, unable to resist taunting Potter about his detention. What he had heard almost caused him to have a coronary. Snape was Potter's guardian! The Head of Slytherin was a Gryffindor's guardian! The idea was so ludicrous that if he hadn't heard it with his own ears, Malfoy would never have believed it.

Jealousy and anger surged up within the blond wizard. Bloody Potter now had the whole staff favoring him! Draco had counted upon Snape not doing so, having been told by his father than Snape had hated Harry's father when they were in school, and would be sure not to give James Potter's son any breaks. That had been true in the beginning, but ever since Halloween something had changed between his Head of House and the Boy Who Lived. Draco hadn't known what to think of Snape's change of heart . . . until now. Now it all made perfect sense.

Suddenly Draco hated Harry more than ever. It wasn't enough that he was famous, that he was Dumbledore's Golden Boy, a Glorious Gryffindor, no, now he had to subvert the Head of Slytherin as well! Snape was Malfoy's Head of House, his concern ought to be with his snakes, not bloody Potter! He had no right to care about Potter. Potter was the enemy. Potter deserved to be humiliated.

Malfoy's hand closed about the pocket watch he had stolen from Harry's locker the day of the Quidditch match. He popped open the catch and glared at the smiling fiery-haired woman within. It must be Potter's mother. He remembered Lucius mentioning that she had red hair and green eyes. Eyes like her son's. Draco spat on the picture. Filthy Mudblood!

Then he threw the watch to the ground and stepped on it.

Stamp! Stamp! Stamp!

Until the face was cracked and the picture scuffed, the watch case bent and broken.

It gave him great satisfaction to destroy something that Potter valued so highly.

Draco kicked the broken watch with his foot, sending it skittering across the corridor. It bounced against the wall and then slid several feet down the hall, propelled by the force of Malfoy's jealous rage.

Two things occurred then.

Skullduggery appeared overhead, flying in from the library with a message for Severus from Madam Pince, the letter attached by a special scroll case to his leg. The noise and motion of the watch scraping across the floor drew his eye and the raven, ever curious and unable to resist shiny objects, plummeted down and snatched the watch up in his talons.

"A shiny thing!" Skullduggery crowed in delight.

Harry was almost to the dungeon stairs when he caught sight of the raven, and had turned about to call to the black bird when he heard an odd sound and then saw Skull diving and picking up something that twinkled and glistened in the light of the magical lamps. "Skull! Hey! What did you find?"

The raven circled, letting out a squawk of surprise. "Good evening, bran-boy!" he called. His beady eyes alight with delight at his new acquisition, and unable to resist showing off, the raven flew in front of Harry, the watch dangling from his feet. "See? Spied a shiny thing upon the floor. Mine now! Pretty!"

Harry gasped. Skullduggery had found his watch! "Hey, that's my watch!" he exclaimed, reaching for it. "Where did you find it?" He cupped the watch in his hand.

Skull landed upon Harry's arm. "Yours?"

"Yes. I lost it and have been looking all over for it." Harry told the raven. "Thank you for finding it . . ." He trailed off as he examined the watch.

To his horror, he saw it was ruined, broken and smashed, its face marred by a great crack and Lily's picture was torn and wrinkled. It was battered and bent and no longer appeared to be running.

"No! No!" Harry moaned, feeling as if someone had reached into his chest and torn out his heart. His watch . . . Severus' gift to him . . . the first gift he had ever received with his mother's picture in it . . . was destroyed. He clutched the broken watch to his chest, unable to comprehend how it had occurred, or even why it had occurred. Surely the watch itself was valuable, why would the thief destroy it? This was even worse than the watch being stolen. Then at least he had hope of recovering it. Now, looking up the wreckage of silver and crystal, he felt a deep sense of loss. It was almost, though not quite, like losing his mother all over again.

Unbidden, tears rose to his eyes and splattered down upon the shell of the timepiece.

Skullduggery made a soft sound in his throat. "Harry? Don't cry."

"I'm not," Harry said softly, trying to deny the tears that kept falling.

Further down the corridor, Malfoy watched in satisfaction. Good! He had made Potter so upset that he was crying. Like a blubbering baby! This was better than delivering the watch to Potter anonymously by owl post. The damned raven had actually done him a favor. Flush with his victory, Draco sauntered over to his rival, unable to resist commenting upon the other's loss of composure.

"Something wrong, Potter?"

Harry jerked up swiftly, and made as if to wipe his face. The watch clattered to the ground. "Mind your own business, Malfoy." He bent to retrieve the broken watch.

But Malfoy's hand closed over it first. "Lose something, Potter?" He lifted the watch from the floor. "What a piece of rubbish!"

"Give me that!" Harry shouted, yanking the watch out of Malfoy's grasp.

Their eyes met.

Harry gazed into Draco's gray eyes, eyes that were glittering with triumph and a sort of savage satisfaction. Malfoy's eyes were full of jealousy . . .jealousy and a cold calculation, almost as if Malfoy had planned this . . .Harry's intuition woke then, and all of sudden all the pieces of the puzzle came together.

"You!" He howled. "You did this! You stole my watch and smashed it, you bloody smug bastard!"

He saw the truth in Draco's smug gaze, in the curl of the sneer upon the aristocratic lips, and knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that the Slytherin was responsible for the theft and the destruction of the heirloom.

Skullduggery hissed in anger and soared off of Harry's wrist just as the furious Gryffindor drew it back, fist clenched, intending to pound Malfoy's face into the floor just the way Draco had the pocket watch.

Harry saw red. A corner of his mind, the sensible part, was yelling that he ought to just get Professor Snape and tell him everything and let him deal with bleeding Malfoy. But the irrational angry part of his mind was screaming for revenge, for Malfoy had deliberately destroyed something personal of his on purpose and had been asking for a good ass kicking for a long time now. The ruined watch flashed before his eyes and he let the red rage swamp him. "You miserable bugger!" he growled. "You had this coming for ages!"

He swung his right fist hard, having learned to throw a decent right hook thanks to Dudley, who was forever punching Harry in the face and breaking his glasses and once or twice knocking out a tooth and giving him a bloody nose.

Draco, still smug, was caught totally off guard.

Harry's fist slammed the blond boy right in the nose, hard enough to snap Malfoy's head back and make it bleed.

Malfoy staggered backwards, crying out in shock and pain. "Oww! You . . . you hit me!" he exclaimed. "I'm bleeding, you rotten bugger!"

"Good. It's what you deserve for breaking my watch," Harry half-shouted, bringing up his fists to protect his face.

Malfoy tried to hit Harry back, but he had one hand covering his streaming nose and he was unused to physical violence. As the son of powerful Ministry official Lucius Malfoy, he never had to resort to fisticuffs before, that was always Crabbe and Goyle's style. He backed away, yelling, "Leave off, Potter! You're insane, trying to blame me for your stupid cheap watch breaking. Help! Crabbe! Goyle!"

There was a grim light in Harry's green eyes as he advanced upon his rival, intent on pounding Malfoy into the ground. "You're such a stinking liar, Malfoy! The one thing I couldn't figure out was how my watch managed to fall out of my sealed locker. And now I know. You spelled the lock open and stole it!"

"Prove it!" Malfoy panted, still trying to stem the tide of blood with his sleeve. "You can't, 'cause that stupid raven was the one who found it right on the floor and brought it to you. Keep attacking me, Potter, and my father will be suing you for assault—"

"I'll show you assault, you pansy-arsed coward!" Harry drew back his fist again, only to feel fingers close like a steel trap about his wrist, preventing the blow from landing.

"Give it to him, Harry!" Skull cawed.

At the same time, Snape's voice, dripping with displeasure, hissed, "Potter, that will be enough! Control yourself!"

Harry froze, he had never heard that particular tone from Snape before, it spoke volumes about how peeved the professor was with him. "Sir, I can explain . . ."

"Really? I fail to see how, especially since I seem to remember forbidding you and Malfoy to get into another brawl."

"You said no dueling . . ." began Malfoy timidly, swiping at his nose, which was swollen and slowly dripping blood.

Snape fixed the Slytherin with a cold and icy glare. "Are you so dense that I must spell out that all brawling, magical or otherwise, is strictly forbidden by me and the rules of this school?" Sarcasm dripped like venom from Snape's lips.

Draco hung his head. "No, sir. But Potter started it . . . over a cheap watch that he found smashed on the floor . . ."

"It was not cheap, you stuck up git!" Harry shouted. "Professor, he broke the watch . . .the one you gave me with my mum's picture in it . . ." He reached into his pocket and withdrew the smashed watch.

Severus looked down and gritted his teeth.

The watch was a sorry looking sight. The crystal was cracked and the picture ripped, the cover hanging off by a tiny hinge, bent and scraped and the cogs and gears were showing.

"Skullduggery, where did you find this?"

"Spied the shiny thing on the floor, Sev," the raven answered promptly. "Over there." He indicated further down the corridor with his sharp beak.

"I see." He fixed both boys with a look of extreme displeasure. "After the detention and discussions I had with you last time, one would think you had learned your lesson—"

"Potter went mental on me, professor!" whined Malfoy. Harry just looked at his shoes, for that much was obvious and there was little he could say to refute it. "Wait till my father hears about this . . ."

"Oh, you needn't wait for your father's return from his business trip," Snape declared coldly. "For I shall be informing your mother about this latest incident tomorrow morning, as well as the Headmaster. Now is not the time for us to debate this matter, it is late and you both have class tomorrow, as do I. We shall settle this matter tomorrow afternoon, in the Headmaster's office."

"The Headmaster's office?" Harry squeaked. In his past experience that always boded no good for him. "Why can't you just settle this, sir?"

"Because you have accused Malfoy of stealing, which is a thing this school has zero tolerance for, as well as deliberate destruction of personal property, Mr. Potter, this matter must be resolved not only by staff, but Professor Dumbledore as well. I shall tell him to call a conference between myself, as your guardian, and Lady Malfoy, as Draco's parent, and Professor McGonagall with the Headmaster mediating. That way we shall get to the bottom of this one way or another."

"But Professor . . ." whined Draco. "Look what he did to my nose."

Snape drew his wand and touched Draco's nose. "Episkey!"

Draco yelped as his nose suddenly healed itself. Snape handed him a handkerchief to wipe off the blood. "There! You're not going to die, Mr. Malfoy, so quit acting like it. And don't try and act all innocent, because I know the both of you are to blame for this."

When Malfoy would have opened his mouth again, Snape cut him off with a sharp, "Enough, Malfoy! Get yourself to bed, now!"

Malfoy gulped and darted Snape a half-fearful look before turning and running for the portrait hole.

Though Snape did not say so, he also wished this conference because he did not trust himself to handle the matter impartially in regards to either boy. That watch had been a family heirloom, given in remembrance to his beloved Lily's child and seeing it ruined that way made him long to use Veritaserum on Malfoy. He turned to Harry, saying quietly, "You need to get yourself to bed as well, Mr. Potter. Skullduggery, make sure he gets back to the tower safely."

Harry lifted his head and met his guardian's eyes, wincing. "Sir, wait. Could I . . . maybe . . .stay with you tonight? I won't be any trouble—"

Snape's eyebrow arched. "No, for you've already been that tonight."

"Sorry. I'll go straight to bed, promise."

"Why do you not wish to sleep with your Housemates?"

"Err . . . I just . . . won't get any sleep . . . worrying . . ." Harry dug the toe of his trainer into the floor.

"You should have thought of that before you punched out Malfoy," scolded his guardian. "How many times must I tell you, if you have a problem with another student, inform a teacher? Why did you not come to me?"

"I . . .I wasn't thinking . . . I just saw the watch and I knew that smarmy bastard—"

"Language!"

"—stole my watch and smashed it, sorry." Harry apologized. "So I lost my temper. He had no right to do that."

Snape drew a long-suffering sigh. "Harry, we shall discuss this tomorrow. Where would you sleep if I allowed you to spend the night?"

"The couch is fine. Or the floor. I don't care."

Severus scowled. "I am not going to be tripping over you in the middle of the night, boy, so the floor is not an option. Come, I shall make a bed upon the sofa, and inform Minerva that you shall be spending the night so she does not drive herself insane wondering where you are." He shepherded Harry back to his quarters with a firm hand to the small of his back.

With a wave of his wand, Snape Transfigured Harry's uniform and school robes into a pair of red and gold striped pajamas and then told Harry to go brush his teeth and make ready for bed. Harry obeyed, still feeling slightly sick to his stomach, and wondering what would happen tomorrow at the meeting. As he was brushing his teeth, he also recalled that he had an appointment with Pomfrey too and nearly groaned aloud. Tomorrow was not going to be a good day.

Meanwhile, Severus removed a thick green and silver blanket with the Slytherin crest from a trunk at the foot of his bed, along with a silver sheet and green-striped pillow and covered the sofa with them. That done, he Floo-called Minerva and told her what had occurred and that his ward would be spending the night with him. The stern witch was upset but agreed that the matter should be resolved tomorrow afternoon, allowing tempers to cool. "I love the boy dearly, Severus, but I fear you're going to have your hands full with him."

"Tell me something I don't know," drawled the other wryly.

"Good night then, Severus."

"Good night, Minerva."

He banked the fire for the night, as the dungeons were chilly. By then Harry was finished with his nightly routine and had come to stand next to the couch. "Professor? The watch . . . can it be fixed?"

Snape turned and caught the faint glimmer of tears in the child's eyes. "I believe so, but for now it must remain in its current state, so all may see what happened. Afterwards, I shall attempt to restore it. No more questions, Harry. Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir." Harry flopped down on the couch and snuggled beneath the blanket. "G'night, Severus."

"Sleep well, Harry. And remember, I shall wake you early for you need to visit the infirmary," his guardian reminded him.

Harry grimaced. "Will I be able to have breakfast?"

"Afterwards."

Harry curled up on his side and closed his eyes. Skulduggery fluttered down and perched upon the couch arm, and began to gently preen the boy's hair.

Severus remained for a moment, looking down on his ward with equal parts of exasperation and fondness. Potter, what am I going to do with you? He rested a hand lightly on Harry's head before heading into his bedroom. Sleep beckoned and it had been a long day.

CICICICICI

"It's time to rise and shine, rise and shine, and say hello to Mr. Sun!"

Harry awoke to Skull warbling happily in his ear, sounding like an insanely happy announcer on a preschool telly show. He groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. "Go 'way, Skull!"

But the raven hopped onto his shoulder and pecked the pillow, beating out a tattoo. "Get up, my son, there's work to be done. And not enough hours to do it in."

Now the raven sounded like Dumbledore.

"Skull, have mercy."

"Potter, get up this instant and quit dawdling. You have an appointment to keep."

Harry immediately sat up and pulled the pillow away from his head, expecting to see an irate Severus standing over him, arms crossed.

Instead, he saw Skull flapping and cackling, his black eyes twinkling.

"Why you . . . you tricked me!" Harry shook a finger at the unrepentant raven.

"It worked, didn't it?" Skull cawed, then perched on Harry's shoulder and began to nibble gently on the end of Harry's glasses.

"Stop it, Skull. That's the only pair I've got."

"You need a new pair," interjected Severus, coming into the room. "I'll see why the ones you ordered haven't arrived yet this morning. Hurry and get washed up." He waved his wand and Harry's pajamas became his uniform and robe again.

Harry hurried and washed, even though he was less than eager to start this day, knowing what waited at the end of it. But he knew it was no good putting off the inevitable.

Snape led him to the infirmary, where Poppy ran a quick diagnostic on him, discussed a few more supplemental potions Harry should take, then gave him three inoculations. To his surprise, they really didn't hurt, she gave him one in each arm and the last in his bottom, which was rather embarrassing, but didn't hurt either. Once that was over, she spent five minutes speaking with a harried clerk at Wizarding Occulars, who assured her that Harry's glasses would be shipped soon, there had been a delay because the occular specialist was on holiday.

After that, Severus dismissed Harry, it was quarter to eight and he was starving. He met up with Ron and Hermione in the hall.

"Where were you last night, mate?" asked Ron. "Fall asleep in the library?"

"No, on Snape's couch," he said quietly.

"Were you getting extra help and lost track of time?" asked Hermione.

"Uh . . . kind of." Harry quickly filled them in on what had happened.

Ron was livid. "I knew it! That Malfoy's such slime. I hope he gets expelled."

"Would they expel him over something like that?" Harry asked.

"Of course they would. Harry, stealing's a serious offense," Hermione pointed out. "Where's your watch now?"

"The professor has it. It's a wreck, but he says he can fix it after we have this . . .conference."

Hermione nodded. "That's good."

"I don't see why they're even bothering with a conference," Ron said angrily. "Just snap his wand and boot him out the door. One less Slytherin in the school."

"The conference is so they can get all the facts and make an impartial judgment. And make sure the parents know what their child's been up to," Hermione explained. "They had parent-teacher conferences all the time at my old school, to discuss problems kids were having and tell parents if they thought their child needed to be bumped up a form or something."

Ron rolled his eyes.

Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table, trying to see if Malfoy looked as nervous as he felt. But the Slytherin was calmly eating his breakfast, acting as if nothing was wrong. Harry wished he could feel so nonchalant, instead he felt slightly nauseous, even though he was only in trouble for slugging Draco in the nose. Frowning, he turned back to his toast, bacon, potatoes, and eggs. He managed to finish most of what was on his plate before pushing it away and trying to concentrate on his morning classes, which were Herbology and Transfiguration.

All through classes that day, Harry was distracted, worrying over what would happen during the meeting. He could barely eat lunch and in his last class, History of Magic, he spent the entire period thinking of how much trouble he was going to be in because of fighting. Though not half as much trouble as Draco was going to be in.

Skullduggery flew onto his shoulder just as class was dismissed and whispered in Harry's ear, "Remember, you have a meeting with Sev and your Head of House and Lady Malfoy in Dumbledore's office."

"Right. I'll see you there, Skull."

The raven flew off his shoulder, gliding through the air like a harbinger of doom.

Harry hitched his bag higher on his shoulder, it still contained the photo album Snape had given him last night of Lily. For some reason having it comforted him a little as he headed to the gargoyle statue and the hidden staircase. Skull fluttered overhead and spoke the password, "Sherbert lemons."

The gargoyle slid aside and Harry stepped up onto the revolving stairs and was taken up to the Headmaster's office. He knocked diffidently on the door.

"Enter," called Dumbledore.

Harry turned the knob and walked in. Dumbledore was sitting behind his large desk, surrounded by bookshelves, with the large window at the back. In front of him, in a semi-circle, were Professor McGonagall, Draco, Professor Snape, and Narcissa Malfoy. An empty chair inbetween McGonagall and Snape awaited Harry. Harry came and took his seat. Skullduggery landed on Snape's shoulder.

"Now that we are all here, we can begin this meeting," Dumbledore said, and the twinkle was absent from his eyes. "As you all know, Professor Snape contacted me this morning and asked me to call this meeting to resolve certain issues between Harry and Draco, issues which I believe started with some typical rivalry between students and Houses, but have since progressed to open hostility and now theft as well." Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Severus, would you please produce the disputed item, which caused the quarrel between Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy in the dungeons last night?"

"Certainly, Headmaster." Snape drew the broken watch from his pocket and laid it upon the Headmaster's desk for all to see.

Harry flinched upon seeing it.

"Harry, Professor Snape tells me that this pocket watch belongs to you. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir. The professor gave it to me on Halloween so I could have something to remember my mum by, since I don't have any pictures of her or anything. The watch was his, I think it was a family heirloom. He put a picture of my mum inside for me."

"Why, Severus, that's very generous of you," Dumbledore exclaimed.

"It was the least I could do. The watch was a Prince heirloom, but I felt Harry had more need of it than I."

McGonagall peered at the watch. "It looks like it was a fine piece. Very expensive."

"I once had it appraised and was quoted a price of 400 Galleons." Severus informed her.

Harry gasped, he had not known just how valuable the watch was, except in terms of sentimental value.

"With a watch that expensive, one would think Mr. Potter would take better care of it," Narcissa said, looking down her nose at Harry.

Harry flushed, then said, "Mrs. Malfoy, ma'am, I did take care of it. I took it everywhere with me during school, and only took it off when I had Quidditch or a shower. The watch meant a great deal to me."

"Harry, when did you notice the watch was missing?" asked Dumbledore.

"After my last Quidditch game, sir," Harry replied. "I never wear the watch when I fly, it could fall off, so I put it inside my locker with my regular robes. But when I came back from the game to get changed, it was missing. At first I thought it just got caught in a pocket, but when I searched all over for it I couldn't find it."

"And you are certain you put it inside your locker and locked the door?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Potter, I'm curious," broke in Minerva. "Why did you not report the watch missing right away?"

"Uh . . . well, you see, Professor Snape was hurt after the match and so was I, kind of. By those . . . err . . . storm spirits. I was really concerned about him and Madam Pomfrey had me in the Hospital Wing for a few days, so I decided to wait until the professor was better before saying anything."

"Oh, yes, I see." McGonagall said.

But then Severus raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Potter, I have been well for several days now. Why did you not tell me sooner?"

Harry swallowed and looked away. This was the question he had been dreading. "Umm . . . because I thought you'd get angry with me for losing it." Then he added swiftly, wishing to take Severus' attention away from him, "But I hadn't lost it. Draco stole it."

"How do you know it was my son that took your watch?" Narcissa asked. "It could have been anyone."

"No, ma'am. I know it was him because anyone else wouldn't have gone through my locker and taken it out. Last time when we had detention, Draco swore he'd make me pay for getting him in trouble."

"That's a lie!" Draco yelled. "Potter will say anything to make himself look good."

Before Harry could respond, Dumbledore held up a hand. "Draco, have you ever seen this watch before?"

Draco looked at the watch, hesitating for a long moment. "Yes. Potter was wearing it at his detention."

"So then you knew that Harry valued the watch."

Draco shrugged. "I guess so, sir."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Malfoy, did you sneak into the Gryffindor locker room during the Quidditch game and unlock Harry's locker and take his watch?"

Draco shook his head.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "Might I remind you, Draco, that lying to cover up your misdeed will not make it any better? It is always best to tell the truth."

"I know that, sir." Draco said, calmly meeting the other's eyes.

Harry's hands clenched into fists.

"When was the next time you saw the watch, Draco?"

"Last night, on the dungeon floor." Draco said blithely.

"What condition was the watch in, Mr. Malfoy?" queried Severus suddenly. "Did it look the way it did when you first saw it?"

"Yes," Draco replied, then too late realized what he'd said. "I mean, no. It looked like that, and then your familiar picked it up and flew off with it to Potter."

Severus' eyes narrowed sharply. "Mr. Malfoy, when you saw the watch the first time, how close of a look did you get of it? Did you hold it in your hand?"

"No, sir. I just saw Potter holding it and asked what it was."

"Then, if you only got a brief glance at it, how did you recognize the watch belonged to Potter?"

Draco gulped. "Err . . .I heard him and Weasley talking about how it was missing at lunch."

"Hmmm. What has me wondering is how a watch that went missing from a Quidditch locker suddenly appeared all the way down in the dungeons, in a corridor where many students go by, and yet no one noticed it but you? Care to explain that, Mr. Malfoy?" demanded Snape.

"I don't know how it happened, Professor Snape." Draco said, squirming guiltily. "Potter was careless, that's why he lost the watch and it got stepped on and broken."

"Draco, how did you know the watch was stepped on?" asked Dumbledore.

"Umm . . . how else would it get broken like that?"

Narcissa went pale. Suddenly her hand shot out and clasped her son's wrist. "Draco Luke Malfoy, look at me."

"Ouch! Not so hard, Mother." Draco cried, looking up at his mother.

Narcissa's eyes were bright with disapproval and shame. "Now then, young man. I have sat here and listened to you dance around the subject and fail to answer questions directly. I want a straight answer from you, and if you speak one word of an untruth to me, I shall summon a bar of soap and wash your mouth out with it just as I've done in the past. Am I clear?"

Draco dropped his eyes. "But . . . but Mother . . .!"

She shook him slightly. "Answer me."

"Yes, Mother."

"Good. Now, answer yes or no. Did you take Mr. Potter's watch?"

Draco gulped, trapped. He had never been able to lie to his mother. Somehow she always knew and whenever he tried it, he was punished just like she had described. He had learned the folly of doing so when he was five.

"Yes."

Narcissa glared at him. "Merlin's staff, why would you do such a thing?"

"Because Potter deserved it!" Draco flared. "He's the one who started with me, refusing to be my friend the first day of school, acting like he was better than everybody because he was famous! He thinks Slytherins are beneath him and gets special treatment from all the teachers. Potter gets to be Seeker when he broke the rules at flying class, everyone feels sorry for him because he lost his parents. Even Professor Snape, who used to hate him, feels sorry for him now and thinks he's special. He made Potter his ward." If looks could have killed, Harry would have been dead on the floor.

"Draco, I never hated Mr. Potter. Nor do I feel sorry for him. I chose to make Mr. Potter my ward for my own reasons, which are none of your business," Severus said icily.

"I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me, Malfoy!" Harry snapped. "And I never asked to be famous. You acted like a stuck-up snot, that's why I didn't want to be friends with you."

"Boys!" Dumbledore cut in before the argument could escalate further. He fixed both boys with a stern glare. "Mr. Malfoy, did you also destroy Harry's watch, in addition to stealing it?"

"So what if I did? Potter doesn't deserve to have the professor as his guardian. He's a Gryffindor, what would he need with a Slytherin guardian? Potter could have any other professor in the school, he doesn't need to steal my Head of House." Draco said.

Narcissa looked like she wanted to die of shame. "Draco, how dare you speak so to the Headmaster? I didn't bring you up to act with such disrespect. Professor Dumbledore, please forgive my son's appalling lack of manners. I shall deal with him later. You have my sincere apologies for his misbehavior. I'm sure you must think me a terrible mother."

"Lady Narcissa, sometimes our children act in ways that they know are wrong. You are not responsible for the choices Draco has made. That responsibility is Draco's alone, as are the consequences." Dumbledore said gravely. "Mr. Malfoy, Hogwarts prides itself on being an institution where thievery is not tolerated. Normally, upon discovery of a thief, I would move to expel the offender. However, in your case, I would assume that your theft of Harry's watch was on impulse, was it not? You took it to get petty revenge on him for getting you in trouble and slighting you. Were you planning on returning the watch?"

"Yes, sir. I was going to send it to him anonymously by owl post in the Great Hall and see what he did. Until I found out that Professor Snape was his guardian and then I got mad." Draco admitted.

"You never intended to sell the watch?"

"No, sir."

"Because of those circumstances, I am willing to put you on probation until the end of the year. I want you to know, however, that your actions have shamed not only yourself but your House and this school. But I will give you a chance to reform yourself by doing . . .ah . . . what is the Muggle term . . ." He scratched his head. " . . .ah, community service. Is that the right trm, Harry?" Harry nodded. "So, you shall work in the library, assisting Madame Pince, her niece Lena, and Professor Snape in restoring the library for three hours on Fridays and Saturdays and any other night you happen to have free time. You shall also pay Harry the full value of the watch, since you willfully destroyed it. In addition to that, you also broke into the Gryffindor Quidditch locker room, for which Professor McGonagall shall deal with you."

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said firmly. "For your misconduct you shall receive detention with me at seven o'clock tonight and I shall take 75 points from Slytherin for your thievery."

Draco gaped at her. "Seventy-five points? Professor Snape, she can't do that!"

"She can, since you have trespassed against her House," Severus said flatly. "Do not make this worse, Mr. Malfoy. I am highly displeased as it is."

"But professor, what about Potter? He punched me in the nose. Why isn't he getting in trouble for fighting and assault?"

"Mr. Potter will be receiving detention with me tomorrow evening and I shall take twenty-five points from Gryffindor for his instigation of a fistfight." Severus said. "I shall also speak to him privately about several things."

"Are those terms acceptable to all of you?" Dumbledore asked.

Both professors and Narcissa agreed. Dumbledore handed the watch back to Snape. Narcissa promised to send a cheque around for the amount of the watch.

"Good. Mr. Malfoy, a word of advice. Next time you are thinking about stealing, think twice. For next time I shall not be lenient. Next time I shall snap your wand. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The meeting was over, and Snape, Harry, Draco, and Narcissa returned to the dungeons, where Severus ordered Harry to go and wait in his quarters while he had a small talk with Draco and Narcissa.

Harry went, knowing full well he was in for a long lecture when Snape came back. He settled down on the sofa and took out Lily's album and started to flip through it again.

Meanwhile, back in Snape's office, both Narcissa and Severus were attempting to alleviate Draco's jealousy by explaining that Severus had a duty not just to his Slytherins, but to all students in the school.

"Draco, as your Head of House, I am supposed to show Slytherins extra attention and guidance, however that does not mean I should neglect students from other Houses," Severus began. "My duty as a professor extends towards teaching and protecting all students."

"Even Gryffindors?" Draco demanded sullenly.

"Yes. Though Gryffindors do try my patience the most, which is why I am hard on some of them, and their recklessness and impulsiveness drive me insane. And even though Harry Potter is now my ward, it does not mean I shall show him favoritism above any of my students, Slytherin or no. I shall treat Mr. Potter like any other student in class and out of it like my child, as would any professor who is a parent on staff. So there is no need for you to so jealous, Mr. Malfoy. Had you come to me before with these concerns, you could have avoided all the trouble you are now in."

Draco's bottom lip trembled. He respected Professor Snape and felt ashamed that he had let the tall man down. "I . . .I'm sorry."

"And so you should be. You also owe Mr. Potter an apology," Narcissa spoke up.

"Mother!" Draco cried.

"Don't 'mother' me, young man! Your behavior has been appalling and I cannot believe that I am saying this, but a . . .a Muggleborn knows how to behave better than you, Draco Malfoy! Now you will apologize to Potter and serve your punishment with good grace, as it is better than you deserve."

"Yes, ma'am. Are you going to tell Father?"

"He will have to know sooner or later," Narcissa sighed. "However, it can be later rather than sooner. Are you sorry for what you have done?"

"Yes . . ." Draco admitted, then added, "Sort of . . ."

"What is that supposed to mean? Have you not learned your lesson yet?" his mother demanded sharply.

"No! I have!" Draco protested.

"Yet you still blame Potter for what you have done," Narcissa stated, reading her son like a textbook. "I see you still have a long way to go before you learn that your actions are your responsibility. What have I told you before? That you make your own mistakes and then you take the consequences." She picked up Snape's ruler off his desk. "Come here."

Draco paled. "No, please! I've learned my lesson. Dumbledore already punished me."

"That does not take away from my own punishment," Narcissa said firmly. "I warned you what would happen if I were called to school again, did I not? You are lucky I'm not doing this in public, in front of your whole House, Draco Luke Malfoy."

Draco reluctantly came to her.

Severus rose. "I shall leave you two alone, Narcissa. Send him to my quarters when you're finished, I'll be expecting him."

"Of course, Severus." Narcissa answered, taking her son over her knee.

Severus departed, as he was shutting the door, he heard Narcissa start to lecture. "I cannot believe a son of mine is a thief . . .!" followed by the sharp crack of his ruler on the seat of Draco's pants and Draco's yells. "Total disgrace to my House . . ." More swats followed.

Severus made haste to return to his quarters, where he needed to have his own discussion with Harry.

Harry was waiting with his hands clasped on his knees when Severus entered his apartment. To his surprise, the Potions Master did not look all that angry with him, but rather weary and disappointed. But somehow that made Harry feel worse than if Snape had raged at him and called him names. That he could have handled, because that was how the Dursleys had always treated him. But the disappointment visible in the black eyes was something else again.

Severus said nothing at first, simply called one of the house elves to bring a tea tray and some oatmeal squares. Only after he had fixed himself a cup of tea and sipped it did he turn to his ward, who was nervously crumbling a biscuit all over his uniform.

"Stop that," Severus ordered, sighing. "You needn't act as if I'm about to take a stick to the seat of your trousers." He removed the broken watch from his pocket.

"Sorry." Harry muttered, only then realizing what a mess he had made. He began to try and pick up the crumbs.

Severus waved his hand and the crumbs vanished. He then took his wand and tapped the watch, uttering a strong Repairing charm.

To Harry's utter delight, the watch mended itself in seconds, even the torn photo, and was as good as new. He cradled the watch in his palm and smiled. "Thank you, sir! Thanks so much!"

"You are welcome. All of this fuss over a watch." Severus wagged a finger at him. "Harry, why did you not let me know as soon as the watch went missing?"

"I didn't want you to think I was . . .irresponsible or anything," Harry said, hanging his head. "I mean, I wasn't all that sure if the watch was really gone or it had just fallen out somewhere and I thought if I said it might have been stolen you wouldn't believe me. You would have said it was an excuse to cover up my own carelessness."

"Do you truly believe that?" Severus put two fingers under Harry's chin and made the boy look at him. "After what we have been through, do you truly think that I would be so callus?"

"Yes. No. I just . . . didn't want you to be disappointed in me. The way my relatives always were."

"Ah, Harry. Your relatives were impossible for you to please because they didn't see you as a child needing their approval or attention. That is not the case with me. Since getting to know you better, I now know that you are capable of being responsible and appreciative of your possessions and especially that watch. I know that you would never be careless with it because you are not a spoiled brat used to getting everything you want. Had you told me sooner, we might have been able to discover Draco's theft earlier and saved yourself a great deal of anxiety and heartache." Snape crossed one booted foot over the other and paused to take a drink of tea. "Drink your tea."

Harry did so, then asked, very quietly, "Severus? Are you still disappointed in me for not coming to you?"

"No. Not anymore. I understand where you're coming from and how difficult it can be to trust that an adult will look out for you or even believe you when you tell the truth. But I would like you to remember this, if you are truthful with me always and admit when you are wrong, you shall not have to worry about disappointing me. I will do my best to be here if you need to talk and if something like this occurs again, do not hesitate to come to me. There is no weakness in asking for help."

"Yes, Severus." Then he added impishly. "How come you almost never ask, then?"

Severus' mouth twitched. "Because I, too, am a product of my upbringing. And a stubborn and proud Slytherin."

"Maybe you could learn to ask too . . .sometimes."

"Perhaps." Severus acknowledged. He finished off his tea and poured another cup. "As for your impulsive display of boxing in the corridor, Mr. Potter . . .let us say that I will not have a repeat of anything resembling it again, clear? You are old enough to know better and to control your temper."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. The last thing you need is a reputation as a bully, and yes, I am aware Malfoy might have deserved what he got, nevertheless, you should exercise restraint over your emotions. That is paramount for a wizard, discipline over mind and body and emotions will help you control your magic. You have a strong talent and uncontrolled it could do great harm. So learn this lesson well. If provoked, walk away. If you can't walk away, call for a teacher. If no teacher is around, only then should you defend yourself, and try and make sure the damage is not permanent to your opponent. There is only one exception to that rule. If you're facing a monster or a dark wizard bent on taking your life, or someone in league with You-Know-Who, then you fight to the death."

"Okay, Severus. But what if it's two on one, or the student's trying to beat the crap out of me?"

"Then I shall teach you a few useful charms that will enable you to get away from them, such as a Shield Charm, a Repelling Charm and a Disarming Charm. And if anyone in this school is bullying you, you come to me immediately and I shall deal with them."

"Even if they're Slytherins?"

Severus gave him a sharp grin. "Oh, yes. My Slytherins know you are my ward, and if they have the sense God gave a mouse, they will never attempt to ambush you or harm you. Not on my watch."

Harry nodded. Hearing Snape say that made him feel safe and protected, as he never had before. He picked up a biscuit and ate it, then another one, until Severus told him to stop, he'd spoil his dinner.

Harry rolled his eyes, but stopped eating them. Then he finished his tea. "Severus?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Would you mind if I . . . took a little nap before dinner? I'm sort of tired and achy."

Severus put a hand on his forehead. "No fever. Perhaps it's a reaction the vaccines you had earlier. Yes, you may have a lie down, but wait a moment. Mr. Malfoy will be stopping by and he has something to tell you."

"Like what?" Harry couldn't fathom what Malfoy could possibly have to say to him.

But he got his answer a moment later, when there came a knock on the door. Snape opened it and Draco walked in, somewhat stiffly. He came straight up to Harry and said, "I've come to apologize, Potter, for stealing your watch and breaking it. It was wrong." He held out a hand.

Harry froze. This was the last thing he had expected. He slowly gripped the other's hand, not sure if he trusted Malfoy's sincerity, but willing to give the other the benefit of the doubt. "Apology accepted, Malfoy."

Draco's lip curled slightly in a sneer, but his eyes looked . . .relieved. Or so Harry thought.

"I . . . have to go. Homework," the other muttered.

Then he retreated out the door, but not before Skull fired a parting salvo.

"Don't let the door hit you in the arse on your way out, Malfoy! Rrwa-a-a-k!"

The door slammed and Harry tittered.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Skullduggery, must you have a comment for everything?"

"Of course, Sev. I am a raven, and ravens always have the last word." He began to preen his long glossy tail feathers. "Did you know, that when they still had executions back in the Tower, during the time of old Harry VIII, we used to comfort the condemned by telling them jokes while the headsman swung the axe? It made them more . . . at ease. It was sort of like a good public service deed. Why, when my great-grandmama lived in the Tower, Queen Anne Boleyn went to the block and she told her not to worry, between one blink and the next she would see God. Very comforting, no?"

"Is that true?" Harry whispered to his guardian.

"Possibly. He has never truly lied, though he has been known to embroider the truth when it serves him." Severus admitted, scratching the raven gently.

Skull nipped him playfully. "It's true! Ravens carry the souls of the slain to the Land of the Dead, especially those who have died untimely, and then the Angel of Death comes to take them away."

"They do?"

"So my mother told me," replied the raven primly.

"Enough, Skullduggery. You'll give him nightmares."

The raven giggled. "Oh, I doubt that. Don't you know anything about kids his age? They love to be scared silly. Right, Harry?"

"Right," Harry said quickly, though he wondered if he would dream about ravens carrying his parents' souls to the Land of the Dead when he took his nap.

CICICICICI

Harry woke in time for supper in the Great Hall, having slept without any nightmares. He accompanied Snape to the Great Hall, where they separated, Harry going to sit with his friends at the Gryffindor table and Snape going to sit at the staff table in his usual spot between Minerva and Flitwick.

Severus was just about to eat a forkful of his cranberry walnut salad when Dumbledore cleared his throat and tapped his goblet lightly. "Attention, please!" he said, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the din of students. "I have a short announcement to make."

Severus froze with the fork halfway to his mouth. Please, by all that is good on the earth, let him not do what I think he's about to do.

All the professors looked up.

"It is my great pleasure to announce that we now have a parent on staff again." The old wizard went on, oblivious to the death glares Snape was shooting at him.

"We do?"

"Who's that?" asked Sprout. "Have we hired a new teacher?"

"No, but one of our Heads has recently adopted a son. Congratulations, Severus! You're now the surrogate father of our very own Harry Potter. Isn't it wonderful?"

Everyone froze.

Severus' fork fell to his plate with a clatter. Flushing, he picked it up, and met the somewhat shocked glances of his colleagues.

"Oh, my! Severus, who would have thought you'd had it in you?" gasped Pomona. "Oh, dear. That didn't come out right at all. I'm so sorry."

"Never mind, Pomona. I'm sure it will take getting used to, that the great dungeon bat is now Potter's legal guardian." Severus said dryly.

"I say, when did that happen?" muttered Quirrell. "Must have missed something."

"What made you decide to take the plunge, Snape?" asked Flitwick.

"Potter needed a guardian and someone to keep him out of trouble." Severus answered shortly, vowing to spike Dumbledore's sherbert lemons with a laxative potion someday soon.

"Well, I think it's wonderful!" gushed Poppy. "Harry has always needed a male influence."

"Yes, though you had better not try and steal my Seeker, Severus," Minerva joked.

"And take away your only star player?" drawled the other wickedly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Minerva's eyes flashed. "Don't get cocky, Severus. My team is bursting with talent."

"We'll see about that." Severus chuckled. He took a large gulp of wine from his goblet, wishing it were not forbidden to get drunk while at school. He could feel all the eyes of the students suddenly zeroing in on him.

When he looked up to see why the sudden interest, he saw several owls making their way about the hall carrying the evening edition of The Daily Prophet in their talons and beaks. One stopped and dropped a copy off at his place and he unrolled it.

Smack in the middle of the front page was the following headline.

Potions Professor Becomes Guardian to Boy Who Lived!

Severus set down the paper and muttered, "Bloody hell!" before defiantly picking up his fork and beginning to eat his salad. He'd be damned if he'd let the gossip-mongers ruin his appetite.

At the Gryffindor table, Harry was also doing his best to ignore all the whispers and gasps and just eat his supper. He was hungry and not in the mood to field questions about his unorthodox guardian just yet. So he dug into his baked beans, ham, and corn, ignoring the glances and so forth until there came a thud and he looked up.

Neville had fallen off his bench, a dazed expression on his face.

Harry groaned. Why me? Why can't someone else ever get the publicity, like Malfoy for stealing my watch? Is that too much to ask?

Harry shook out his hand, it was cramped from holding a quill for two hours while he struggled to write his detention essay for Professor Snape.  Before that, Severus had made him chop up some lizard livers, used in certain potions of alteration and changing.  That had been gross, but he could bear it.  The essay was something else again.  Snape had required him to write two feet of parchment on how he should have handled the altercation with Malfoy, or anyone who attempted to harm him physically or magically.  The problem wasn’t listing or writing the content, Snape had given him the answers he expected last night.  The problem was that he had terrible penmanship and he kept getting distracted thinking about the way people had reacted to that blasted tell-all article in the Prophet.

Neville half-fainting in shock had been the least of it.

Most of his yearmates had looked at him as if he’d gone insane, and one tall lanky fifth year had asked when Harry was going to start eating at the Slytherin table, since he seemed to fancy serpents so much? Harry had ignored that taunt, but others in his House cast him looks of disapproval and shock and anger, making him feel sick to his stomach.  He had tried to eat some more, but the food stuck in his throat, and he finally set down his fork and said, “What does it matter to all of you who my guardian is?”

“Because you’re a Gryffindor and he’s the Head of Slytherin,” murmured several.

Harry had looked at them quizzically.  “And that matters how? If he’s willing to take me in and I’m willing, why should it matter?”

“Well, because it’s Snape!”

“How could you let the greasy git have authority over you like that?”

“All Slytherins are followers of  You-Know-Who.”

“Does this mean you’re gonna be friends with Malfoy next?”

“No, of course not!” Harry had gasped.  “I can’t stand him. He’s a stuck up prat!” He stood up then to help Neville because no one else seemed like they were going to, and he wanted to avoid all the stares and so forth he was getting from everyone, but especially from his own Housemates.  “Neville, are you okay?”

Neville nodded sheepishly.  “I’m always tripping and falling, Harry. Don’t worry, I’m not hurt.” He took the hand Harry held out to him, then asked softly, “But Harry . . . you’re not afraid with Snape as your guardian?”

“No.  He saved my life, Neville. With the troll and the storm spirits.”

“Oh, well, he seems so . . .err . . . strict and everything . . .”

“Maybe, but just between you and me, Longbottom, my relatives were worse.”

Neville looked dumbfounded.  “They . . . were?”

“Yeah.  They hate magic and wizards.  I never really belonged there.  But with Snape it’s different.  He came to me and chose me.  So at least I know one thing—that he wants me.”

Neville nodded. “I guess that’s good, Harry. But he scares me to pieces when he glares at me.”

“Wanna know another secret?” Harry asked. “His bark’s worse than his bite.”  He then resumed his place and tried to ignore the mutterings of his Housemates.   Poor timid Neville! Yes, Snape could be intimidating, but Neville must be really sheltered if he thought Snape was the worst that was out there, Harry thought.  Neville wouldn’t have lasted a week with Vernon, Petunia, or Dudley.   Especially Dudley.  Harry reached into his pocket and clasped his watch, then tried to force down another mouthful of food.

He had been hungry before, but now his appetite had waned, as the atmosphere around him changed from shock and disbelief to something more hostile. 

“If you have Snape as a guardian, why aren’t you a Slytherin?” demanded the obnoxious boy who had spoken before.  “Because only another viper would choose him.”

Harry glared at the other boy, whose name he didn’t remember.  “The Hat chose to put me in Gryffindor.” Because I asked it to. Maybe I shouldn’t have.

“Oh, Potter.” An older girl sighed dramatically. “Slytherin and Gryffindor . . . it’s just not done.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at that. “Apparently it is, Lara. Because they’ve just done it.”

“Maybe that’s how he survived the Killing Curse as a baby,” remarked the obnoxious fifth year again. “Because he made a deal with You-Know-Who!”

Harry stood up, his fists clenched. “That’s ridiculous! I could barely talk back then, you stupid—”

Percy cut in.  “Potter, sit down.  Craven, you’re out of line.  In case you’ve forgotten, Potter survived the Killing Curse, if You-Know-Who was going to subvert him, he would have taken him away, not tried to kill him.  Don’t be more of an ass than you already are.  The Hat doesn’t make mistakes, Harry belongs in Gryffindor, like his parents.  Having Professor Snape as his guardian changes none of that.  We all know Snape looks out for him.  This is just more of the same, and a good thing too, else Potter wouldn’t be here right now being forced to listen to idiots like you.  Furthermore, I don’t see why it’s any of your business what goes on in Potter’s personal life.  Unless you’re his biographer?” That got snickers from some of the Gryffindors.  “Now, everyone shut your mouth and eat, the subject is closed.”

It wasn’t, but the muttering did subside and now some of them were giving Percy nasty glares too and more than a few were growling that Weasley was becoming too high-and-mighty, but not even Craven dared cross Percy. 

Harry was shocked, but grateful for his prefect’s intervention. He had always assumed Percy didn’t care all that much for him.  “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Percy answered, then went calmly back to eating.

Ron was looking at Percy as if at a stranger.  “Wow! First time he’s ever done that!”

The twins snorted.  “He just likes to have the last word.” Fred remarked. 

Harry eyed them warily, wondering if they were going to turn on him too.  But George gave him a quirky grin and said, “Old Snape’s okay.  If you’re fine with it, Harry, than that’s all right by us.”

Harry smiled.  At least the Weasleys were supporting him. He managed to eat a forkful of his supper.

“So, what happened at the meeting, Harry?” Hermione asked then.

“Yeah. Did Malfoy get his wand snapped?” Ron asked.

“No.  But he did get put on probation and he has to pay me back for breaking the watch and his mum was really steamed at him,” Harry told them.  “And so was Professor Snape. McGongall took points and gave him detention too.”

“Good! For once the prat gets what he deserves.” Ron said with a satisfied smirk.

Harry nodded.  “But I have detention too, for punching Malfoy out, tomorrow night.”

“With who?” Ron muttered.

“My new guardian.”

Ron winced. “Oh. Sucks for you then.”

In more ways than one, Harry sighed, pushing the food about on his plate and praying Snape wasn’t watching him right then. . . .

Harry jerked out of his reverie with a start and came back to himself, as Severus’s hand closed over his shoulder.  He looked up.

The Potions Master was frowning, clearly displeased.  “Daydreaming, Mr. Potter? That won’t help you write any faster.”

Harry dropped his eyes. “No, sir. Sorry. I . . . got distracted.”

“I could tell.  Keep writing, or else you’ll be here all night,” was all Snape said, then he withdrew to his desk to finish marking homework.

Harry groaned to himself and picked up his quill.

When he finally stumbled out of Snape’s classroom it was half-past nine, and he was tired, but didn’t feel like asking if he could stay with his guardian.  He figured if he went and slept upstairs with the other Gryffindors, it would show them that he was still one of them, despite the Head of Slytherin being his guardian. 

When he arrived in the Gryffindor common room, Ron was playing chess with Dean, and decimating him, and Hermione was studying, as usual. Both of them greeted Harry with friendly smiles, though a few others glanced up and then looked away, and Harry heard at least one muttered, “Traitor!”

Flushing, he started to make his way upstairs, when he heard Oliver Wood call, “Practice at 3 on Thursday, Potter!”

“I’ll be there, Wood,” Harry answered, and was thankful that Snape had his Nimbus in his quarters, Harry didn’t trust someone not to try something with his broom, given the way people were reacting to the guardianship.  Why can’t they just bloody leave me alone? He wondered irritably.  Funny, how no had a problem back on Halloween when Snape saved him from the troll, but suddenly Harry was betraying Gryffindor by allowing Snape to be his guardian.  People were so dumb sometimes! He stalked upstairs and entered his dormitory, which he shared with the four other first year boys—Ron, Dean, Neville, and Seamus. 

He stopped dead and stared.

His bed hangings were shredded and torn and a large sign still dripping a viscous green paint had been hung across what remained of them.  Paint the color of swamp foliage was sloshed all over his bed, coating the sheets, pillows, and duvet.

The sign read: Slytherin Lover Go Home!

His trunk had been battered and a crude representation of a snake painted all over it. They couldn’t get into it because he had Severus show him a strong Locking Charm, and it repelled the standard Unlocking Charms.

He looked around, hurt and angry.  But no one else’s bed had been touched, only his.  I don’t believe this! Who the hell could have done this?  He had been the victim of cruelty like this before, Dudley had ripped apart his bed once at home, after the letters came and he had been moved upstairs to the second bedroom.  Dudley and his friend Piers had slashed his sagging mattress and tied his sheets together and thrown water all over it.  And Harry couldn’t even complain to Aunt Petunia, because he knew Dudley would lie and say he didn’t do anything and Harry was just a lazy slob.  He had thought he was free of that sort of persecution at Hogwarts. 

A vein in his temple started to throb and he suddenly had a headache.  His grasp on his bookbag slipped and it hit the floor with a thud beside him.  He didn’t know how he was going to clean up the paint, he didn’t know any spells that removed it from cloth.  So he simply stood there, staring at his wrecked bed, his green eyes burning with the injustice of it all.

Until he heard Ron say from behind him, “Harry? Why are you just standing in the middle of the floor like—bloody hell! Who did that to your bed?”

Harry turned.  “I don’t know. When I came up here, I found it like this.”

“Aww, Merlin!” Ron shook his head.  “Whoever did it is a real git! Look, let me get Percy.  He’ll know how to get the paint off and everything.”  He quickly ran down the stairs to find his brother.

Percy was livid when he saw what had been done.  “All right, now I’ve had enough! I’m going to call a meeting tonight, speaking to everyone except you, Harry, and we’re going to get this nonsense stopped for good and all.  Otherwise I’m informing McGonagall about this, and she’ll put the whole House on restriction until the culprit comes forward.”  He cast a few Cleaning charms and soon Harry’s bed and trunk looked normal again.  He removed the sign from the bed and tore it in two, shaking his head in disgust.  “All right, Potter, you can go to sleep.”

Harry got undressed and into bed, carefully examining the bed and beneath it before he got into it.  Ron told him good night before heading back downstairs for the meeting.  Harry tossed and turned, he fancied he could still smell the wet paint even though it was vanished from the bed.  He was tired, but on edge, and he couldn’t sleep. He felt uneasy and uncomfortable, his private space had been violated and he no longer felt safe in his room.  He tried to fall asleep, but every time he dozed off, he would hear a scuffle or a thump and wake up, fearing some new mischief was about to be played on him.

An hour passed, and finally he heard Ron and the other boys coming up the stairs. 

“Harry? You still awake?” Ron hissed.

Harry sat up. “Hey. Did they find out who did it?”

“Afraid not.  No one would admit it, but Percy told everyone off and said that if anything like this happens again, we’re all on suspension from McGonagall. He said you were to be left alone or else. And I think he put charms on our door so only we can go in and out. Well, besides him and McGonagall.”

“Oh. I guess that’s good,” Harry murmured, though he still didn’t feel safe. 

“I’ll bet it was that arse Craven, but without proof, Percy can’t do anything to him,” Ron sighed, yawning.  “Well, I’m going to bed.  See you in the morning.”

Soon the room was filled with the soft snores and breathing of his dorm mates, and Harry flopped over on his stomach and tried to sleep.  But sleep wouldn’t come and finally he gave up trying.  He knew he needed sleep, otherwise he would be a zombie during tomorrow’s classes, one of which was potions, and he didn’t dare risk that.  There was no help for it.  He knew of only one place where he felt safe and protected, and that was Snape’s quarters.  He grabbed his pillow and his bookbag, which he had placed by his bed, lit up his wand and took a uniform and clean robe out of his trunk, and stuffed them in his bag.  Then he tied the laces of his shoes together, slung them about his neck, and crept like a ghost out of Gryffindor Tower.

It was almost eleven o’clock, way past curfew for first years, but Harry didn’t care.  He made his way quietly down the staircases to the dungeons, where he paused for breath beside the potions classroom.  The halls were dim and dark, with only single lamps on either side to light his way. 

As he leaned against the cool stone wall, panting slightly from his mad dash down from Gryffindor Tower, he heard voices coming from the potions classroom.  Puzzled, he didn’t think Snape was still up brewing, Harry peeked about the door frame.

There stood Marcus Flint, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and prefect, and four other tall Slytherin boys, looking to be about fifth or sixth year, surrounding Malfoy, who was giving them a look of pure bravado and defiance.  Flint glared at the blond boy angrily.

“You just had to go and nick Potter’s watch, didn’t you, Malfoy?” the prefect growled.  “Now look what your bloody sticky fingers have cost us. Seventy-five points, plus another black mark against the House! Now we have thievery added to our reputation.  Didn’t I tell you last time to leave bloody Potter alone? Seems like you have a short memory, Malfoy.”

“What’s it matter to you, Flint, if I’m mean to Potter?”

“It matters because your actions reflect on all of us Slytherins,” answered one of the others.

“And now Potter’s off limits because he’s Snape’s ward,” added a dark-hair boy with blue eyes.

“We don’t like thieves either,” sneered a blond with spiky hair.

“’Specially thieves stupid enough to get caught and cost us points and make us lose face.  Bad form, Malfoy!” snapped the tallest of them, he was even taller than Flint, but not as broad.

“Very bad form,” Flint agreed.  “I warned you what would happen if you kept on making us look bad.”

Malfoy looked uneasy.  “You . . . you can’t do anything to me . . . Dumbledore’s already put me on probation . . .”

Flint snorted.  “Ha! Like that’ll teach you anything. Dumbledore’s a pansy when it comes to dishing out real punishments.  Me, on the other hand, know just what a snot like you needs. Hold out your hands.”

“No!” Draco started to back away.

But the tall boy and the blue-eyed one grabbed him and held him fast, spread-eagling Malfoy.

“Get off me!” Malfoy shrieked.

“Silencio!” cried the third one and suddenly Malfoy’s voice was gone.

Harry watched, trembling, as Flint proceeded to cast a spell that enlarged Malfoy’s hands till they were the size of a gorilla’s.  Then he hung a wooden placard about Malfoy’s neck that read I am a thief and a disgrace! Lastly, he looped a large length of cord about the other boy’s wrists, tying them together so Draco’s hands were palms up and in front of him. 

Silent tears were running down Malfoy’s face and one of the other boys cuffed him on the back of the head.

“Stop sniveling, you mama’s boy!”

“Let’s go, Malfoy. You can stand on the Platform of Shame for half-an-hour tonight and tomorrow night, so everyone in the House can see you. Maybe that'll teach you how to behave like a Slytherin.” Flint said coldly.  He took the other end of the rope and prepared to march Draco from the classroom.

Abruptly, Harry ducked out of sight.  He scurried past the classroom and around the corner to Snape’s door and tapped on it, praying that the professor wasn’t asleep yet.   He wasn’t sure if he felt sorry for Malfoy or not, seeing how the Slytherins treated him.  Plainly they were very upset at the way the blond had been acting and were not hesitant about making an example of the arrogant youngling.

Harry had his hand raised to knock again when the door was yanked open, and a rather annoyed professor stood scowling down at him, in his night robe and leather slippers.  Skull was perched on his shoulder. “This had better be an emergency—Harry, what are you doing down here at this hour? Why aren’t you asleep in your bed?” He raised an eyebrow at his ward’s appearance—Harry looked like a refugee, with his hair all mussed, his bulging bag slung over his shoulder, pillow rolled up under his arm,  and his shoes hanging about his neck. 

“Sir . . . can I sleep down here?” asked Harry in a very soft voice.  “Please?”

“For the love of Merlin, boy!” the exasperated professor snapped. “Come in then.” He was not in a very good mood, mainly because he kept getting interrupted by owls bearing various complaints and hate mail over his decision to make Harry his ward.  Clearly, there were some in the wizarding world that did not think a Slytherin former suspected Death Eater should have custody over the Boy Who Lived.

Just as Harry stepped forward, a large barred owl flew into the room, holding an ominous red envelope in its beak. 

Skullduggery squawked and attacked the other bird. “Out! Out, you harbinger of bad news! How dare you bring my master a Howler?” He began to peck the owl about the shoulders and head.

“Skullduggery, don’t kill the messenger!” yelled Snape. “Just let him deliver the bloody thing!” He snatched the Howler from the harried owl.

The owl hooted in anger, but turned and fled, not wishing to fight the angry raven, whose beak was as sharp and lethal as a sword.

Snape slammed the door shut as soon as the owl flew out of it, almost catching his tail feathers.

Skull hissed and called insults at the closed door in about a dozen different languages.

Severus waved a hand and cast a Silencing charm over the room, so no one could hear the Howler, except for himself and Harry.

Harry had sat down on the sofa and was eying the red envelope uneasily. “Sir? What’s a Howler?”

“A bloody damn nuisance,” answered Severus, just before the Howler went off.

“SNAPE—

YOU PATHETIC GREASY EXCUSE FOR A WIZARD! I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT ANYONE WOULD GRANT YOU PERMISSION TO RAISE A CHILD, ESPECIALLY THE CHILD OF MY BEST FRIEND! YOU’RE A SLYTHERIN AND AS DARK AS THEY COME, YOU HAVEN’T ANY BUSINESS TRYING TO PRETEND YOU CARE ABOUT JAMES’ SON, EVERYONE KNOWS YOU HATED EACH OTHER IN SCHOOL! WHO DID YOU CON TO LET SUCH FILTH BECOME GUARDIAN OF HARRY POTTER? YOUR REPUTATION PRECEDES YOU, SNAPE! YOU MIGHT HAVE HOODWINKED DUMBLEDORE, BUT I KNOW YOU FOR WHAT YOU REALLY ARE—A DEVIOUS, CUNNING, HEARTLESS BASTARD WHOSE ONLY LOVE IS CAULDRONS AND THE DARK ARTS! LILY WAS RIGHT TO BREAK IT OFF WITH YOU, YOU ROTTEN—“

Harry winced, both at the sheer volume of the screaming letter and Snape’s obvious fury.

Snape aimed his wand at the screaming envelope.

“Reducto!”

The Howler exploded into confetti, drifting down to lie in a shredded heap on the carpet.

“Take that, you harridan!” Skull screeched and stuck out his tongue at the destroyed Howler.

Harry cautiously uncovered his ears, for the author of the letter had a voice like a banshee, shrill and penetrating, it had made his ears ring.  He whistled softly.  “Who was that from, Uncle Severus?”

Snape grimaced, and fed the remains of the Howler to the fire on the hearth.  “An old schoolmate of mine.  I believe that was Mary MacDonald, she was in Gryffindor and considered herself one of your mother’s best friends, though I don’t think Lily really cared all that much for her. Apparently she felt the need to tell me off as well for taking you as my ward.”

Harry winced.  “Uh . . . she sounded really peeved.  Have you been getting a lot of those, sir?”

“This is the first.  But I doubt it shall be the last.” Severus sat down on the sofa next to him, looking weary.  “I had expected some difference  of opinion from ignorant people, but plainly ignorance and stupidity reign supreme for now.”

“I’m sorry.  Maybe we should have kept it a secret.”

“Why? Are you ashamed to call me your guardian?” demanded Severus testily.

“Me? No, of course not!” Harry cried.  “It’s just that . . . look at all the trouble it’s caused . . . for both of us . . .”

“Both of us?” repeated the professor, eying Harry suspiciously.  “Am I to assume you’re down here to hide from popular opinion as well?”

“Err . . .” Harry dug his slipper into the carpet.  “Sort of.”

“Explain, please. But be brief.”

“Okay. You see . . .” Harry told him what had happened.  “ . . . and I just didn’t feel safe anymore, so I thought maybe I could sleep down here, just for tonight.”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, then said, “Harry, you may stay tonight, but bullies like this Craven fellow need to be faced, sooner or later.  I shall cast some protective charms over your belongings and your room, but unless it’s a weekend, you really should spend the nights in your room with your Housemates.  Running away solves nothing, except to convince whoever did this to you that he’s getting to you.  Have you told McGonagall what happened?”

“No. Percy was going to . . . I think.” Harry bit his lip.

“I see.  Then not all your Housemates agree that you’re a traitor?”

“No. Neville doesn’t, and neither do the Weasleys, Hermione, or the Quidditch team.  But they’re the only ones who don’t think I’m nuts or whatever.” Harry made a face.  “It’s not fair! Why are people so stupid?”

“Stupid is as stupid does,” Skull cawed, landing on Harry’s shoulder and preening his hair.  “Hello, bran-boy!”

Harry smiled at the raven and gently stroked his glossy feathers.  “Hi, Skull! How are you doing?”

“Fair to middling. Want to hear a lullaby?”

Harry blushed. “Umm . . . I’m a little old for that, Skull.”

“Are not!” argued the raven, then he began to sing, “Hush, little baby, don’t say a word—Uncle Sevvy’s gonna buy you a sweet blackbird—”

Harry gaped. “Uh, Skull—isn’t it a mockingbird?”

The raven turned and clicked his beak.  “Not in my version, bran-boy. Now hush!” He resumed singing. “If that lil’ blackbird don’t sing, Uncle Sevvy’s gonna buy you a diamond ring, if that diamond ring gets stole, Uncle Sevvy’s gonna give you a pot of gold . . .” The raven’s voice was low and soothing, and sang, much to Harry’s amusement, in Severus’ familiar haunting tones.  

“Incorrigible bird!” scolded Severus.  “By all rights I ought to pluck you and bake you in a pie.”

Skull eyed his wizard and crooned, “But you have the most be-yoo-tiful voice!”

“Skullduggery,” warned Snape.

Harry started laughing softly. 

“He has no appreciation for music!” huffed the raven, turning his back to the Potions Master.

“Now you’ve hurt his feelings,” Harry said.

“He’ll get over it.  He has an ego the size of a glacier,” snorted Severus.

“Why do people hate the fact that a Slytherin is my guardian? I mean, I know your House was where he came from, but still . . . why can’t people just forget about all that and judge you by your actions? I mean, you saved my life twice, why would you want to hurt me or make me into a dark wizard?”

“Because ignorance breeds fear and it is far easier for people to fear than to admit that they are wrong.  I have made mistakes in the past, but have done what I can to rectify them. But for some, like that hag MacDonald, nothing I do will ever be enough.  They will not forgive and they will never let anyone forget.”

“She sounded like a real b—”

“Mr. Potter, watch your language!”

“What? I didn’t say it.”

“It was on the tip of your tongue, you can’t deny it. And while it may be so, saying it changes nothing. There will always be people like her and Craven in the world and all you can do is ignore them.  Arguing only fuels their hatred and determination to tear you down.  People believe what they wish to believe, not the truth that stares them in the face. I could sacrifice myself for you today and still MacDonald would believe I had done so for my own selfish reasons.  It is a battle that I cannot win and so I choose not to fight it.  I know the truth and so do you.  If they cannot see it, they are fools.”

 “So what are you going to do about the letters?”

“Burn them or shred them. They make great kindling for a fire.”

“But don’t you care what they’re saying about you?” Harry asked indignantly.

“No. Not anymore.  I have heard worse, child.  Nothing they can say about me means any more than an infant babbling, it’s a lot of noise over nothing. Does it bother you?”

“Yes.” Harry admitted.

Severus put an arm about him.  “Try not to let it.  In a few weeks something else will grab people’s attention and they’ll forget all about us.  Are you going to let a few loud-mouthed ignoramuses tell you what to do?”

Harry shook his head, leaning into the other’s embrace. “Never, Uncle Severus. They can kiss my arse.”

“Harry.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s getting late. You need sleep, not enough of it breeds catastrophies, especially in potions.  We’ll continue this discussion later. But I wish you to remember two things—come to me if someone is harassing you and two, if you need to, I am always willing to lend an ear.” He shifted slightly, looking down at the dark head pillowed on his shoulder fondly.  “Or a shoulder.”

“Mmm . . .” Harry had his face buried in Snape’s robe, halfway into the realm of dreams. 

Skullduggery fluttered over to perch on the back of the sofa.

Severus remained there for awhile, until the boy’s breathing had evened out and only then did he gently place Harry on the sofa, put his pillow under his head, and cover him with a Slytherin blanket.  He rested one long-finger hand atop Harry’s head for a brief instant.  “Together, youngling, we shall get through this.  Even if I have to snap wands and take names.”

 “Right on, Sev!” croaked the raven, his beady eyes gleaming. 

Harry woke the next morning feeling refreshed and dressed quickly in his uniform and robes. He would have preferred to stay in Snape's quarters and have breakfast with the Potions Master and Skull, but Severus would have none of it.  "You are going to eat breakfast with your friends and Housemates just as you have done since you arrived here.  Hiding in here will not help your situation, merely add more fuel to the gossip mill.  Certain people already think I chain misbehaving  students to the wall of my dungeon by their wrists, there's no telling what they will think if they don't see you at breakfast, Mr. Potter."

"Do you?" Harry dared to ask saucily.

"Only when they have pushed me past all tolerance," his guardian snorted.  "Come here. Your tie is crooked."

"I don't really know how to tie it," admitted the small Gryffindor. 

Severus sighed.  "Your uncle never showed you?"

Harry shook his head.  "No, Uncle Severus."

"Watch." Severus removed the red and gold tie and demonstrated.

"Oh.  I see now . . . I think."

Severus repeated the lesson, then handed the tie to his student.  "Your turn."

Harry fumbled a bit, but managed to get the tie to knot.  It wasn't really hard once he memorized the steps.  He untied it and put it about his neck, retying it.  "How's that, sir?"

"Adequate." Severus straightened Harry's robes and ran his wand down them, getting all the creases and dust off them.  He examined his ward.  "Presentable.  Except for your hair."

"My hair? What's wrong with it?"

"It looks like birds have nested in it."

"Err . . . well . . .Skull did sleep on my head last night."

Professor Snape shook his head and Summoned a brush.  "Hold still." He carefully ran the brush through the boy's untidy locks. 

"Professor, I can comb my own hair!" His ward objected, squirming in embarrassment.

"Be still!" growled the other, using a charm to make Harry's cowlick lie flat.  "There! Much better! Collect your bag and let us go to the hall."

Snape waited while Harry went and got his bag, Skull perched on his shoulder.

Harry was a bit annoyed at his guardian's fussing over his appearance, but then supposed it meant that Snape cared about him. He got a warm glow somewhere in the pit of his stomach at that thought. He recalled Petunia always fussing over Dudley every morning before school, but she hadn't bothered to so much as look at Harry.  At least Snape made sure he looked decent, even if it was embarrassing to have his hair combed like a two-year-old's. He grabbed his bag and headed back to where Snape waited.

As they emerged from the dungeon, a few Slytherins greeted their Head of House, eyeing Harry curiously, but without animosity. 

"Morning, Potter!" Blaise Zabini called over his shoulder. He was a slender boy with dark hair and eyes, clearly of Italian descent.

"Hey, Zabini," Harry waved back shyly.  He had not expected any of the Slytherins to speak to him, and was happy that Zabini wasn't being a total drip. Unlike Malfoy.

Skull took wing off Snape's shoulder and flew on ahead to the hall, where he assumed his usual station upon the back of the professor's chair at the staff table.   

"Hello, Skull!" Lena smiled at the large raven.

"Good morning, Lady Rook," said the raven, bobbing his head in a gesture of respect.

Lena looked astonished, but before she could ask the raven anything further, Severus took his seat beside her. 

"Lady Rook?" Severus raised an eyebrow, then said very softly, "You are a member of the Society, Lena?"

The other nodded discreetly.  "Since I came of age. My mother inducted me into it.  You also?"

The professor gave a tiny nod.  He then stirred some milk into his morning cup of tea and sipped it.  He was not surprised at the young woman's admission.  She was exactly the sort the Society recruited.  He tapped the side of his plate and said quietly, "Poached eggs, bacon, toast." The food he had requested popped up on his plate. 

"You forgot my red grapes," his familiar reminded.

"My apologies," Severus then asked for a bunch of red grapes.  When they appeared, Skull walked onto his arms and ate them daintily from Severus' fingers.  Like all his kind, Skullduggery could eat anything.  Once he had his fill of the grapes, the irrepressible bird snitched bacon off Snape's plate.

Snape shot his familiar a pointed look.  "Just when I think you've learned some manners," he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"What? I'm hungry," Skull replied.

"Behave," ordered his master wearily.  He began to eat his eggs.

Lena concealed a grin behind her napkin.  The bold raven made her want to laugh out loud, but mindful of her seatmate's dignity, she restrained herself.  She then winked at the raven, who gave a playful caw, then proceeded to fly over to Dumbledore and drink from the Headmaster's water glass.

Familiar with the raven's antics, the rest of the staff ignored him, for which Snape was quite thankful.

Down at the Gryffindor table, Harry was being pelted with questions from Ron and Hermione. He had just poured himself a glass of orange juice and the familiar vial of Nutrient Suppliment had appeared next to his plate, when his friends barraged him.

"Harry, where were you this morning?" asked Ron.

"Harry, did you finish the homework in Charms yet?" Hermione wanted to know

Harry debated on whether to admit the truth to Ron, then decided to be truthful. He didn't like lying to his friends.  "I . . . after what happened last night, I . . . couldn't sleep in my bed so I . . . err . . . went down to Professor Snape's apartments.  He has a couch and I slept there." He decided not to mention that soon there would be a room there for him as well.  It wasn't there yet, after all.  He pulled the stopper from the vial of potion and gulped it down. 

"Oh.  Yeah, I can see why . . ." Ron grimaced.  "Bloody Craven!"

Hermione looked from one to the other, an expression of extreme puzzlement upon her features.  "Harry, I don't understand. What happened last night? Did Malfoy prank you or something?" She had been sleeping when Percy had called the meeting last night and no one had bothered to wake her.

"No.  It's just . . ." Harry sighed.  "Certain people in our House don't like the fact that Professor Snape is my guardian so they . . . decided to redecorate my bed and trunk last night.  With green paint. They think I'm a Slytherin lover and should be Re-Sorted."

"Which has never happened and whoever's behind this had better watch out, or else McGonagall's going to nail their arse to the wall."

"Oh, Harry! That's awful! I can't imagine who would be mean enough to do that to you." Hermione said sympathetically. "I hope they catch whoever it was and give them detention for the rest of the year.  It's nobody's business but yours who your guardian is."

Ron rolled his eyes.  "He's the Boy Who Lived, Hermione. In the wizarding world, anything that concerns Harry concerns everyone else too."

Harry scowled down at his scrambled eggs and sausage.  "I hate being famous! It bloody sucks!" But he said that last under his breath, so Snape wouldn't hear it. He didn't want to eat soap for breakfast.

Just then the owls flew into the hall with the morning post.  Several of them carried packages and letters in their beaks and also the morning edition of the Prophet.  A brown owl delivered a copy to Hermione.  At the Slytherin table, Draco also received a copy, and began scanning it immediately for Quidditch stats.

Suddenly, a gray and white barred owl landed in front of Harry with an envelope in his beak. 

"Huh? A letter for me?" Harry frowned, taking the letter.  "I don't understand.  Who would be sending me a letter by owl?"  The only people he knew that were wizards were those in Hogwarts. He turned it over to see if there was a return address, but all he found was  a red seal with a large M on it.

"That's the seal for the Ministry of Magic, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, peering over his shoulder. 

"I don't know anyone from there."

"Maybe the Minister wrote you a letter," Ron said eagerly.  "My dad works over there, that's how I recognize that crest.

"Open it, Harry," urged Hermione.

Harry broke the seal and opened the envelope.  Inside was a creamy sheet of parchment.

He unfolded it.  Written in a bold unfamiliar hand was the following message.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am writing this to inform you of your extreme stupidity in accepting the guardianship of Professor Severus Snape.  Do you not know he is associated with dark magic? He's a sneaking skulking Slytherin, for pity's sake! You cannot trust anyone from the House of Serpents, my boy.  The truth is not in them. You have made a very grave mistake in letting Snape have control over you. 

You ought to terminate the guardianship immediately, you have no need of a Slytherin seeing to you when there are perfectly good Gryffindors or Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs who would gladly take you in. Get rid of Snape! Having him in charge of you is like allowing a cobra to sleep in your bed.

I knew your parents well, boy. They never would have wanted this for you.  Your father hated Snape.

Find someone else-anyone else-to be your guardian.  You disgrace your House by allowing that scummy snake control over your vault. 

Tell Snape to go drown himself in his own cauldron. It's what your father would have done. Or else suffer the consequences.

The Fifth Marauder

Harry scowled.  "This is ridiculous! I wish people would just mind their own business!"

"The Fifth Marauder?" Ron repeated.  "Is that some sort of code name?"

"How should I know? I didn't write it." Harry said irritably.

He half-crumpled the letter and started to shove it in his pocket.  He would show it to Snape later. Maybe he could figure out who the mysterious author was. 

Another owl hovered over the dark-haired boy, a large yellow envelope in its beak. It dropped it down on Harry's plate.

"Another one?" Harry groaned, lifting it up.

Across the room, Skullduggery saw the bright flash of yellow and turned his head to see what it was.  He gave a squawk of alarm.  "Don't open that!" he bellowed in Hagrid's bass.

He flew like lightning across the hall.

Snape looked up from finishing his breakfast. "Skullduggery, by all that's good on the earth-" He tracked the raven's flight . . . and saw the yellow envelope in Harry's small hand.  "Potter, no-!"

Too late.

The innocent sunshine yellow envelope unfolded itself. On the inside was a single word. 

TRAITOR!

A puff of some kind of purple dust flew out and into Harry's face, coating it and his glasses.

Harry started coughing and gasping.  He could feel the dust burning his skin, making it red and swollen, as if he'd been stung by a nest full of hornets.  His tongue swelled because he'd accidentally gotten a bit of the dust on his tongue as he coughed.  His eyes began to stream with tears, and he tried frantically to brush off the dust, only to find his fingers were now itching, burning, and swelling up as well.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped. "What's happening to you?"

"It was cursed! The letter!" Ron cried, staring at his friend in horror. "Somebody help him!"

Skullduggery landed on the table, and began to croon worriedly at Harry, whose cheeks were so swollen you could barely see his eyes.  "Bran-boy, you shouldn't have opened that. It was a hexed letter."

"Skull . . . help . . ." Harry whimpered.

Severus was on his feet and striding down to the Gryffindor table before anyone else had a chance to react to Harry's predicament.  He reached Harry before Percy could get out of his chair, and lifted the stricken student into his arms.  "Mr. Potter, relax. I'm taking you to the Hospital Wing. Poppy can dismantle the curse." He swept the table with a hawk-like glare before striding out of the hall, Harry cradled close.  "Skullduggery, go to Poppy and tell her what happened. Quickly!"

The raven was out of the door before Snape had set foot across the threshold.

Harry was whimpering and shaking, unable to help himself.  "Hurts . . . Sev'rus . . . make it stop . . ." His entire face felt like it was on fire and twice its size as well.

"I know.  We're almost there." Severus said, trying to remain calm, half-running down the corridors.  "You were hit with Hornet Dust, Harry.  A powder designed to make the recipient feel as if they were stung by a thousand hornets. " He winced as the child groaned, tears falling down his grossly swollen face. He cursed under his breath.  I should have warned him not to open any envelope colored yellow.  Fool! If I had been paying attention, I might have stopped him from opening it. It made him furious, that someone would target Harry over the guardianship in such a cruel way.  He had expected to get Howlers and cursed letters, but figured Harry would garner sympathy as the dupe of the big bad dungeon bat, not be attacked as well.

Harry buried his face in Snape's robes, making strangled sobbing sounds. Nothing had ever hurt so much in his life, not even his broken wrist. 

Severus ran faster, arriving at the infirmary in seven minutes flat.  He pointed his wand at the door and it slammed open. 

"Severus, bring him over here, quickly!" the mediwitch ordered, gesturing to a bed.

The Potions Master set his ward down so Poppy could examine him, holding him down firmly for Harry was squirming in pain. "Easy, child."

Poppy waved her wand and some of the swelling about Harry's face and hands went down.  "Mr. Potter, can you talk?"

Harry managed a choked, "Yes. I dink so." His tongue was still swollen and it hurt.

"Open your mouth." Poppy ordered.  "Hmm, looks like he got some in his mouth, Severus. Which means . . . he can't swallow potions."

"Can you spell them into his stomach?" Snape asked.

"No. I haven't the skill for that.  Fetch me a syringe."

Severus obeyed, Summoning it and the potion, then turning Harry over so the mediwitch could give him an injection of the antidote.

Harry yelled as the needle slid into his bottom. "Oww! That hurt!"

"Forgive me, child, but it was the only way," Poppy apologized, patting him on the back.  "You should start to feel better in a minute or two." She waved her wand over the boy and Harry's school uniform was Transfigured into a set of hospital pajamas.  "Severus, help me turn him."

The Potions Master did so, gently laying his ward on his side.  As they watched, the swelling and most of the redness began to disappear, and Harry could speak normally again and see through more than slitted eyes as well.  "How do you feel now, Harry?"

"A little better, sir." He replied, shifting slightly. The terrible burning sensation was beginning to fade little by little, though now his bottom ached.

"Can you swallow a pain relieving draft?" Poppy queried.

Harry nodded rapidly.  No way did he want another injection.

He took the potion the mediwitch gave him without protest, drinking it down quickly.  "Ugh! Tastes like old socks."

"Here, dear. Drink some ice water." Poppy gave him a silver goblet and Harry drank eagerly. The water washed the awful taste away and felt cool and soothing upon his tongue.

The pain relieving draft soon banished the last of the prickling and burning, much to Harry's relief.  He blinked away tears and gazed up at Severus.  "The envelope . . . it was cursed, wasn't it?"

Snape nodded solemnly.  "Forgive me, Harry. I should have warned you about them, but I never thought you would become a target for spite and malice as I was."

"Whatever do you mean, Severus?" cried Poppy.  "I thought this occurred because of a prank. Are you telling me that someone deliberately sent a Plague envelope to Harry . . . knowing what it would do?  That's . . . monstrous!"

Snape looked grim.

"Evil, nasty, wicked people!" sneered Skull, bristling.  "I'd like to rip out their livers . . . and eat them with fava beans and a nice Chianti," The raven hissed, imitating Hannibal Lecter.

"Severus! Where does he learn these things?" cried Pomfrey, horrified.

"Muggle culture, I'm afraid."

Harry smiled slightly and wondered where on earth Skull had seen-or heard-Silence of the Lambs. 

"From now on, I shall be receiving any mail for Mr. Potter, so I can scan it for any harmful hexes, jinxes, and so forth," Severus declared firmly.  "I won't open it, but I will inspect it." He explained to Harry.  "Any Howlers or Plague envelopes I shall destroy."

"A Plague envelope?" Harry repeated.  "Why is it called that?"

"Because back when the bubonic plague and cholera epidemics ravaged Britain, families put up red and yellow plague flags in front of homes where people were infected, warning others to beware. " Madam Pomfrey explained.  "The yellow color was a warning that you should beware the contents of the envelope.  It often contained a nasty jinx, or a powder, usually disease related. But of course, Mr. Potter, you wouldn't have known that, as such missives have fallen into disuse over twenty years ago. But back in my day, some unscrupulous little beasts thought it very funny to send them to rival students, though they rarely contained such potent hexes as this one." Her eyes flashed.  She looked over at Snape.  "I'm surprised, Severus, that you knew about them."

"I've studied many things, Poppy," was all the Potions professor replied.  He rested his hand lightly on Harry's head.  "The swelling has gone down considerably.  Are you in any pain now?"

Harry shook his head. "Not any more."

"Good."

"Mr. Potter, you'll need to stay here for the morning.  By then, the effects of the Hornet powder will have been totally neutralized and you can go back to class."

"Just in time for my afternoon potions," said Severus with some satisfaction.

"What are we brewing today?" Harry asked eagerly.

"You will find out when you have class," answered his teacher obliquely.

"For now, I would suggest you get some rest, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey told him. 

Harry wanted to tell her he wasn't tired, but the truth was he felt wrung out and weary.  He found himself finishing his water and then yawning.  Then he recalled the other letter he had received that morning.  "Sir, where are my clothes? I . . . I had  another letter . . . before this one . . . I wanted to show you it."

"Where?"

"In my robe pocket."

Severus waved his wand and Harry's robe appeared. He reached intothe pocket and pulled out the letter.

"That's it.  Do you recognize the handwriting?"

Severus read it.  He was scowling.  "No.  But perhaps if I study it . . ." The signature alone made his blood  boil.  He wondered which of his classmates had dared to send Harry this, resurrecting the specter of the bloody Marauders. "Try and rest, Harry. Do not concern yourself with the letter. Focus on recovering."

"Okay, professor." Harry mumbled, his eyes starting to close. He removed his glasses, handing them to Snape, who placed them on the small bedside table.  "Severus? Will you stay here until I'm sleeping?" he whispered.

Snape simply nodded and seated himself in an upholstered chair.  "Fear not, child.  I shall set wards so no one can harm you." He began to chant softly, casting swiftly and with a minimum of wand movement.  By the time he had finished, Harry was sound asleep.  "Skullduggery, watch over him."

"Of course, Sev." The raven fluttered down on Harry's pillow and gently began to preen the sleeping wizard's hair, a gesture of affection he rarely performed on anyone other than Snape.

With his magic and his raven on guard, Severus felt secure enough to leave Harry asleep in the Hospital Wing, returning to the Great Hall to inform Dumbledore and McGonagall about Harry's predicament.  If he ever found out who had sent that envelope . . . Skullduggery eating the wizard or witch's liver would be the least of their problems.

Snape arrived just as the students were dismissed to go to their morning classes, and had to wait until the endless deluge of small black robed bodies went past before he could enter the hall.  He had a prep period before his ten o'clock class, and so was not in a hurry to get to the dungeons.  He waited for the bulk of the students to go by, some of them cast him half fearful glares, and one or two older Gryffindors actually dared to mutter that it was his fault that Potter had gotten cursed, requiring him to take points for disrespect. 

"Professor Snape!" he heard Granger call from the middle of the press of students.  "Is Harry okay?"

She elbowed her way to his side, her bushy hair flying all over.  Ron Weasley came behind her, also looking concerned. 

"Mr. Potter will make a full recovery in a few hours. Right now he is resting."

"You're sure?" Ron asked.

Snape looked down his nose at the red-haired firstie.  "Weasley, if I were not certain, I would have told you.  You shall see Potter in my fifth period potions. Now off with you, before you are late for class and lose your House more points which you can ill afford."

Ron looked like he wanted to argue, but Hermione caught his sleeve and tugged him along. Being late was a cardinal sin in her book.  "Thank you, professor," she called breathlessly over her shoulder. "I'm so glad he's going to be all right, Ron.  What kind of powder was in that envelope, I wonder . . .?"

Severus nearly smiled at the young witch's curiosity. In many ways she reminded him of himself at that age. 

Then he hurried into the hall, where Albus and Minerva lingered, to inform them about Harry and tell the Headmaster he would be screening Harry's mail from now on.  As expected, Minerva was livid, and Albus was also upset. But neither of them protested against Severus' protective measures. 

"I cannot believe anyone would send a boy such a dreadful thing!" Minerva spat. 

"Public opinion can be dangerous," Snape said.  Minerva could not comprehend just how dangerous because she had never been in public eye before, nor subjected to public disapproval and censor, like Severus had.  "And Potter has many enemies."

"Who do you think sent it?" Dumbledore asked.

"It could have been any number of people." Severus said.  With disapproval running so high against the guardianship, Severus could not narrow it down.  A Death Eater might have sent that envelope, or merely a citizen who wished Harry to learn a lesson.  Right then he cared less about finding the culprit than he did making sure Harry was safe.  "But I shall see to it that it never happens again."

"Good for you, Severus! I shall make sure no tampers with Potter's things in Gryffindor Tower either." Minerva declared.  "But now I have to run, I have second-years to teach." She blurred into the spectacled tabby and raced away.

"I, too, have correspondence to attend to," Dumbledore said regretfully. "I shall see you at lunch, Severus."

Snape nodded, his mind already far off, mentally calculating his next class and how many students would muck up the potion assigned and blow up a cauldron.

CICICICICI

Harry slept for over four hours, and in that time, the potion he had been given finally neutralized all of the powder's effects, returning the small eleven-year-old to normal.  Poppy checked on him every so often, though she was busy filling out paperwork for the school's medical records.  But the raven was perched upon Harry's headboard, alert and watchful.

Poppy received a Floo call from St. Mungo's in the afternoon, and left the infirmary briefly to deliver a crate of potions for their storage room. 

While she was gone, Harry woke up.  He sat up gingerly, his bum still twinged with residual pain, but was otherwise bearable.  Then he reached for his glasses and stuck them on his head.  He glanced around, not seeing Pomfrey anywhere.  He debated on whether or not to leave the bed to use the bathroom, he was about to burst and felt much better than he had before the nap.

He carefully slid his legs out of bed and stood up.  It was then that he noticed the absence of the raven.

"Skull?" he called, looking around.  He was almost positive he had heard Snape tell the familiar to stay with Harry just as he drifted off.  And though the raven could be impudent, he would never forsake his duty. "Skull?"

He took two steps forward and stumbled over the still form of the insolent raven.

Harry froze.  Then he screamed, "Skullduggery!" and knelt to gather the bird into his arms.  The raven was barely breathing. 

Harry felt a terrible pressure squeezing his chest and he raced out the door. Severus. He had to find Severus.  Severus would know what to do.  Tears burning his eyes, Harry ran as quickly as he could to the dungeons, a single thought blazing in his mind-he had to save Skullduggery.  He only hoped he was in time.

Harry had never run so quickly in his entire life, not even when Dudley and his gang were chasing him through the schoolyard, intent on pounding him into the dirt. His trainers squeaked and skidded upon the floor, so rapidly did he accelerate and turn. He bolted down the hall and down the two flights of stairs like a dervish, thanking Merlin that everyone else had class right then and so there was no one to impede his progress and no professors to shout that he shouldn't run in the hallway. He could feel his throat tightening with pure fear and guilt, and he panted harshly, but never stopped running. He carried Skull cradled in the crook of his arm, and he kept chanting the same refrain in his head as he ran. Skull, don't die! Please don't die! Severus will help you!

Once down the marble staircase, he made a quick left and bolted through the door leading to the dungeons. Down the steps he flew and then along the corridor leading to Snape's classroom. By now he was short of breath and had a stitch in his side from running so fast, but he ignored it. He didn't care if he collapsed so long as he got Skullduggery to Severus. "Almost there! Hold on, Skull! Please!" he whispered to the comatose raven. He felt tears prickle his eyes but refused to indulge in them. There would be time enough for that later, especially if the raven didn't make it. Stop that! he rebuked himself. Skull will make it. He HAS to. But there was a dreadful lump somewhere in deep in his stomach and he whispered, "Don't die, Skull. We need you so much!"

Finally he reached the potions classroom. From the sound of things, the students had just arrived and were getting seated, he could hear the scrape of chairs and voices talking and Snape telling them to get seated quietly, this was not social hour. Harry thrilled to hear that familiar snarky tone, and he threw open the door with a loud bang and rushed into the room.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

Snape pinned him with his stern obsidian gaze. "Mr. Potter," he drawled dangerously. "Is the school on fire? Under attack? If the answer to those questions is no, then you had better have a good explanation as to why you have entered my classroom like a rampaging rhinoceros, or else!"

"It's Skull, sir! I think he's . . . dying!" Harry gasped, showing Snape the limp black form.

There were multiple cries of dismay and horror from his classmates. However annoying he could be, the raven was one of the best-loved animals in the school.

Severus was at Harry's side in an instant. "My office, Potter, quickly!" He practically hauled Harry through the archway leading to his office, pausing to call over his shoulder, "The rest of you, begin the assignment on the board immediately!" He quickly shut the office door, then turned to his ward. "Let me see, Harry."

Harry gently handed the raven to his teacher. "Here, Uncle Sev. I . . . I don't know how it happened. I woke up and went to use the bathroom and I tripped and found him like this on the floor. Did . . . did someone hex him?"

Severus had drawn his wand and was running it over the raven. "Impossible. Nothing evil could have gotten past my wards without setting off alarms. This wasn't caused by a spell." He gently poked and prodded the raven. There was no response.

"Then what happened?"

"I . . . am unsure. I shall contact my Magical Creatures vet, Gwenyth Williams shall know what's wrong with him," murmured the Potions Master, clearly distressed. He set the raven atop his desk and firecalled Gwenyth, whose specialty was magical avians.

He withdrew his head from the flames and said, "Healer Williams shall be here shortly."

Harry swallowed sharply, only then recalling that he desperately needed to use the bathroom. But he didn't want to leave Skull. He squirmed, unable to help himself.

Severus frowned. "Harry, for Merlin's sake, go and use the lavatory. I would rather not be cleaning up a mess on my carpet."

Harry flushed. "But, sir, I need to make sure Skull's all right."

"And risk having an accident?" demanded Severus. "Go!"

Harry obeyed, his bladder was leaving him little choice.

Three minutes later he was back in Snape's office, where he saw a medium-sized young woman of about twenty-two with long dark hair and silvery-blue eyes examining the raven. She wore a long robe of peacock blue and green with a wand and phoenix emblem upon it. After a moment she lowered her wand and said, "Well, Professor Snape, Skull wasn't the victim of a curse or even some kind of illness. It would seem he swallowed some sort of . . .magical powder, which acted like a poison to his system, causing him to go into anaphylactic shock. "

"The Hornet Dust!" exclaimed Severus.

Harry cried out in horror. "No! That's not true!"

"Of course it is," said the vet crossly, fixing Harry with a stern look. "Why? Did you give him it?"

"Not on purpose! It was a cursed envelope. It hit me and . . . got everywhere. Skull must have eaten some when he . . . he started grooming my hair," Harry realized, feeling guilt churn his stomach into a lake of acid. He clutched his middle and whimpered.

"Oh. My apologies then. It was an accident," she said, much more compassionately.

"Can you neutralize the poison?" asked Snape, his fingers gently stroking the obsidian feathers.

"Yes. But I shall need a few potions, sir. I have him stabilized for now with my magic. Do you have a counterdraft to this Hornet Dust?"

"Yes. It was recently used on Mr. Potter here." Severus quickly summoned the proper potion and Gwenyth gently pried open Skull's beak and administered the potion with a small syringe that lacked a needle. She quickly cast a diagnostic and said softly, "It's beginning to break down the poison molecules, but I have no idea if it will be enough. The poison has begun to damage his internal organs."

"Can you fix him?" Harry cried, his green eyes bright with unshed tears.

"I can try to repair most of the damage, but I cannot tell if the poison had an effect on his brain. He may live but not be the same. Or he could be fine. Or he might die despite all I can do." The vet admitted candidly.

"If that's the best you can do, what good are you?" Harry blurted, his guilty conscience was eating him up inside and he did not know how to handle all of the pain and anger he felt, except by targeting something or someone.

"Potter, that was uncalled for!" snapped his guardian. "You have no reason to be rude to Miss Williams. Forgive him, Miss Williams, he has grown very close to Skull and in his grief he forgets common courtesy."

"I understand, sir." The young woman said. "I'd be the same if it were a pet of my own who was almost at death's door. But please, I must have complete silence to work." She drew her wand and began to chant softly in Latin. A glowing bluish light sprang from her wand and surrounded the bird and her hands.

Severus watched, his eyes glued to his familiar, his face pale and his black eyes glittering with a fierce concern and love for his stricken familiar.

Harry went and huddled in the chair next to the desk, still feeling awful and now regretting his hasty words. "I'm sorry," he muttered, and felt the guilt rise to smother him. He blinked hard and prayed that Skull would survive. He recalled the raven sitting on his shoulder and preening his hair and suddenly tears filled his eyes and dripped down his cheeks. It was all his fault Skullduggery was poisoned. Severus would never forgive him for this. He lifted his hands and ran them through his hair, half tearing out black strands, while simulataneous concealing his tears with the sleeves of his robes.

For an endless amount of time, there was silence in the office, as Gwenyth Williams sought to repair the damage done to the familiar with spells. Actually, nearly forty-five minutes had gone by, but to Harry and Severus it was like eternity. Neither spoke, but remained still, eyes fixed upon the Magical Creatures vet, who spoke different charms and moved her wand in miniscule ways, touching the raven's heart, head, stomach, and throat.

At last she straightened, wincing, and the bluish light went out. "I have done all I possibly can, Professor. He is very weak, but he may recover. Or he might die, his liver was fairly badly damaged and his immune system compromised. I have tried to repair them, but sometimes the spells do not take, especially since he is a magical raven, and those birds with magic often fight against my spells. The next twenty-four hours are crucial. Give him small sips of water with a tablespoonful of honey stirred in it every hour or two, that should keep his metabolism up and prevent dehydration. Keep him warm and quiet. That is all you can do. If all goes well, he ought come out of his sleep by tomorrow morning and hopefully have an appetite. When he wakes, you may give him a half-teaspoon of Animal Pain Reliever. Call me if there is any change." She handed Snape a vial of green liquid.

"I will. Thank you, Miss Williams." Severus said, conjuring a warm blanket to wrap Skullduggery in.

"Don't thank me yet, sir. He's not out of the woods." Gwenyth said. "Merlin bless and keep him. I'll send you a bill later. He's a tough old corvus, if anyone could survive this kind of thing, a raven can."

With that, she departed through the fireplace, heading back to her office.

Severus tenderly wrapped the blanket about his familiar and lifted him up. He turned to look at Harry, who was staring down at the floor. "Harry, go back to my classroom and start on my assignment. I shall be along shortly to monitor the rest of the class."

"No!" Harry protested. "You can't leave Skull alone. Please let me watch him. Don't send me away, sir. I know it's my fault he was poisoned, but . . . " He trailed off, struggling to keep from bursting into tears.

"Come with me," was all Snape said then, and Harry rose immediately and followed the professor to his quarters.

Severus carefully placed the raven on the sofa, the blanket still shrouding him. Then he turned to Harry and said, very quietly and firmly, "Harry James Potter, you are not going to blame yourself for this. You could not have known that some of the powder residue had gotten in your hair, or that Skullduggery would chance to pick some up while preening you. What happened was an accident, a twist of fate, and is not your fault whatsoever. If you need to blame someone, blame the bloody idiot who sent you that letter." He went and took the boy's chin in his hand and lifted it until Harry was looking at him. "Understand?"

Harry sniffed. "Yes, but . . . I'm still sorry . . . I . . . don't want him to die . . ."

"Nor do I, believe me." Severus said feelingly. "But Harry, sometimes you cannot prevent the ones you love from dying. Gwenyth Williams was a former student of mine, one of the first I ever taught, she was a first year Ravenclaw when I began teaching. She is the most competent avian vet I know, and there is no one I would trust more with saving Skullduggery. She is not incompetent by any means. And she certainly did not deserve to be insulted by you, however upset you are."

"I'm sorry . . ." Harry whispered, both relieved and ashamed of his behavior. To his horror, he started to cry, tears leaking down his face. "I just want him to be all right . . ." he tried to pull away, but to his astonishment, Severus put an arm about him and gave him a hug. Harry found his face pressed into familiar black robes and the contact caused him to lose control and begin to sob hard.

"Shhh . . . it will be all right . . ."

"Do you really believe that?" Harry choked out, his words muffled somewhat by the fabric, but Snape understood.

"Yes. To believe otherwise would be unthinkable," answered the Potions Master. "Skull is a tough old bird, he has never been sick a day in his life. His constitution is second to none. He will recover." Snape's voice rang with his conviction, though inwardly he felt afraid. But he could not let Harry see that. The boy was already a nervous wreck. He patted Harry on the back, holding him until the storm of tears had blown itself out. Then he handed Harry a handkerchief and said, "I think it best if you went back and tried to do my assignment. I shall need to return to the classroom and check on the rest of the students. Afterwards I shall cancel the rest of my classes and return here. You may accompany me, if you wish."

Harry blew his nose and wiped his eyes. "Yes, Uncle Severus. But . . . you see, I don't think I could concentrate on brewing right now. I keep seeing him lying there . . ."

Severus sighed, seeing the real distress in his ward's eyes. "Very well. But you shall make up that potion tomorrow. Stay here, order some tea if you wish. I shall be back shortly."

Harry gave him a watery smile then returned to the sofa and seated himself near the comatose raven. His fingers darted out to gently stroke the sleeping bird and Severus heard him whisper, "Keep breathing, Skull. Remember, you're not dead yet. You don't need to go on the cart."

Severus raised an eyebrow . He had not known that Harry was a Monty Python aficionado. Then he departed his quarters with a swirl of his robes. He would have liked nothing better than to remain beside his familiar, but he knew he had to return to his classroom ad make sure it was still standing and nobody had died. With Longbottom brewing, either was a distinct possibility.

Some twenty minutes later, Severus returned to his quarters, having firecalled Albus to inform him about his familiar and that he was going to cancel classes for the rest of the day. Albus was most sympathetic and told Severus he wished the raven a speedy recovery. The professor thanked him, vowing revenge upon whoever had sent that damned Plague Envelope. Hurting both his ward and his familiar was an unforgivable thing by Snape's standards.

Skullduggery was still the same, and Harry was huddled in a corner of the sofa, arms wrapped about his knees, looking at the raven pleadingly.

Severus said quietly, "How is he?"

"The same."

"Have you eaten yet?"

Harry shook his head. "Not hungry."

Severus summoned some tea and toast with butter and jam, plus a Nutrient Draft. "Try and eat. It's better to have something in your stomach."

Harry looked at the food disinterestedly.

"At least drink your Nutrient potion."

Harry did. Then he drank a cup of heavily sugared tea and ate a few bites of toast.

Severus poured himself a cup of tea and drank it black. Then he drank another, before forcing himself to eat as well. He looked over at his ward and asked how he was feeling. "Do you still feel tired or achy from the powder?"

Harry shook his head.

"A verbal answer, please."

"No, sir. I feel all right. Except for Skull."

Severus heaved a large sigh. He might seem in control, but within he was screaming and crying just like Harry. "I know. Whoever sent that envelope has much to answer for!" Snape's tone could have sent a Dementor scurrying for cover.

"If I ever find out who did that, I'm going to hunt the bastard down and kick his cowardly arse!"

This once, Snape did not reprimand Harry for his language. Anyone who could send such a letter to a small boy and cause him to be injured along with his familiar did not deserve any kind of consideration. Instead he said, "Leave that to me, Mr. Potter. Now, you look rather wrung out. Might I suggest you get some sleep?"

"I'm not tired," Harry protested.

"No? Then why are your eyes closing?"

Harry shrugged, trying to keep his eyes open. But it was no use. His eyes shut in spite of himself and he slept for several hours.

Severus remained awake, staring into the fire, listening to the soft hiss and crackle of the flames, recalling all the times he had scolded the raven for his smart mouth and impudent attitude. He would have taken it all back to hear that voice again, spouting some Muggle quote from a song or movie, or stealing food from his plate. He turned and looked down at the raven and only then did he allow himself the luxury of tears.

He placed a palm on the raven, feeling the chest rise and fall, though there was no guarantee that Skull would remain that way. He sensed the struggle going on within the black bird, a titanic struggle for life against all odds. "Do not go gently into that good night, my friend," he murmured, quoting one of his favorite Welsh poets. "Rage, rage against the dying of the light." He wiped a hand across his eyes and said, "You have a will of steel, use it to come back to me." He did not know what he would do without Skullduggery, the bird was like his other secret self. Skull did something no one else had ever done for the lonely professor, he made Snape smile and even laugh on occasion. Most of all, Skullduggery was loyal and would never betray him. Snape had no better confidante than the raven, who for all his mimicry, knew when to keep his beak shut. Severus had never thought about whether or not he needed a familiar, he had never chosen one because of his occupation as a spy and also because he feared he would have little time to take care of one. He would have remained alone forever until Skullduggery had decided otherwise. The quirky smartass raven had grown upon him, until now Severus could not imagine his life without him. Nor did he ever wish to.

Severus drank a third cup of tea, then tried to grade some homework. After reading twenty papers, he put them aside, unable to concentrate. He went and fetched the plastic syringe and gave the sleeping raven the required mixture of water and honey. That done, he tried to rest also, but kept starting up, thinking he heard Skullduggery cawing. But every time he glanced over at the raven, he saw that Skull was motionless. With a shudder, he recalled the old superstition that ravens were harbingers of death. Would death come for the cocky raven this night?

Meanwhile, back in the Gryffindor common room, Ron and Hermione were informing the rest of their House about Skullduggery's condition. Most of the students, even the ones who disliked birds, felt sorry for the familiar and also the professor and Harry. It was the same in the Slytherin common room and with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. But it was Hermione's idea to send a condolence card to Professor Snape, a wish for Skull to get well.

"What are you writing, Hermione?" asked Ron, trying to see what she was scratching out on her parchment.

"A note to Professor Snape."

"Why, got another question about the homework? Or do you want to do some extra credit assignment?"

"No. I'm writing to him to tell him how sorry I am about Skull and hoping he gets well and doesn't . . . die."

"Oh. That's really . . . thoughtful of you," Ron said.

"What a great idea, Hermione!" said Fred. "Why don't-?"

"—we do it too, twin?" finished George. "It would really bite if good old Skull went to birdie heaven."

There were murmurs of agreement from everyone in the common room. Next thing you knew, all the students were busy scribbling away on pieces of parchment.

Then they all headed up to the Owlery to borrow some owls, in the case of those who did not own one, or summon their avians and ask them to deliver the notes to Professor Snape. Over twenty Gryffindors tramped through the corridors and the noise they made brought McGonagall out of her office to investigate.

She stared at all her lions and said, "What is going on here? Where are all of you going?"

"To send letters to Professor Snape," answered Hermione.

McGonagall's eyebrows rose. "Letters to Professor Snape? Whose idea was this?"

"It was mine, ma'am," admitted Hermione. "His familiar Skull is very sick and could die, I heard Harry say so. So I thought he might like a get well card for Skull."

"Why, that's very thoughtful of you, Granger. And all the rest of you . . .have decided to write one as well?"

"Yes, professor," answered the rest.

"Hmm . . . perhaps I ought to write one as well," mused the Transfiguration teacher. "Carry on then."

The Gryffindors tramped up to the Owlery, where they found a few Slytherins, two Ravenclaws, and some Hufflepuffs also mailing out letters home to friends and family. Once they learned what some of the Gryffindors were doing, they returned to their common rooms to write their own get well missives. The Slytherins especially did not want to be outdone, and their students wrote twice as many cards as anyone else.

CICICICICI

Harry woke hungry and cold, as he had kicked off the blanket Severus had placed over him, and the fire had died down to almost embers. He sat up and looked over at the now slumbering Severus and the raven, who was cradled in the other's lap, still asleep. Harry felt a pang of disappointment at Skull's condition, he wasn't any worse, but neither was he better. He thought about going to the hall for dinner, but he didn't feel like mingling with the other students. All he wanted was a quiet dinner and to not be bombarded by questions. He wondered if Severus would mind if he called a house elf to bring him a tray?

But before he could get the words past his lips, there came a loud whoo-hoo at the door. Harry rose and opened the door to let in the owl. The bird flew right to Snape and dropped a letter in his lap. Harry turned about and saw an entire sea of owls coming towards the professor's quarters. For one moment, Harry feared this was more nasty mail, until he saw Hermione's name on one and the twins' on the other. This was not hate mail, but something else again.

The owls continued coming, until there was a deluge of mail, it reminded Harry of the way the Hogwarts invitation kept coming to Privet Drive. Soon the table and Severus's side of the couch were full with messages. Harry gaped, then went to wake up his mentor.

"Uncle Severus, wake up! You have to see this!" He shook the other's shoulder.

Snape came awake immediately. "What's wrong? Is it Skull?"

"No, sir. He's the same as before. But you have to see all the mail you're getting."

Severus scowled. "More hate mail?"

"No. I think these are from students." He handed Snape Hermione's letter.

Severus read through the first one and then another. He was astonished and deeply touched that the children cared so much about school and his familiar to the point of sending cards wishing Skull well. Some of the notes contained small sweets, others contained small treats for the raven.

"Do you want me to help open some?" asked Harry.

"Be my guest," Severus gestured to the piles of mail.

Together, they sorted through the mail, with Harry reading some of the longer notes.

Finally the mail stopped coming and both Harry and Snape could relax and eat dinner. Severus summoned a simple meal of meatloaf and mashed potatoes as well as blueberry pie. Harry found that he was actually hungry after all, and devoured the meal. It was past eight o'clock and Harry felt very tired once again.

By the time both had finished their meal, the second wave of "Skull mail" had arrived. This one was not as large as the first part, but it did keep them busy, proving that Harry and Snape were not alone in caring about the raven. Over half the missives began with the standard, "Dear Professor Snape, I'm really sorry to hear about Skull . . . I hope he pulls through . . ."

After opening the last envelope, Harry glanced over at the bird and asked, "Is he any better?"

"Some," replied his guardian. At least Skull was still breathing. He continued to give the bird the sweetened water at intervals. He directed Harry to stack the mail, sorting it into piles according to House.

Harry eagerly did so, not ready to leave his mentor's quarters. Severus attempted to tell Harry to leave, but Harry respectfully, if stubbornly, refused. "If you make me, sir, I'll leave. But I won't go far. I'll sleep outside your door in the hallway."

The Potions Master frowned severely. "You will do no such thing, boy!"

Harry coughed. "If I go back to Gryffindor Tower, I won't sleep a wink, and you're always telling me how important it is to get a good night's rest, sir."

"You are incorrigible, young one!"

"Yes, sir."

"I ought to take thirty points for your insubordination, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, sir."

"Just because you are my ward does not mean you will be allowed to flout school rules."

"No, sir. But how is sleeping on your couch breaking the rules?"

Severus frowned severely. "Mind your cheeky tongue, Potter."

"I'll try, sir."

He snorted. "Try very hard."

"I will. Can I stay on the couch? I won't be any trouble."

"You had better not be, or else there are several cauldrons with your name on them waiting for your expert touch with a scrub brush," threatened his mentor. "Go and fetch yourself a pillow and a blanket from the closet. You ought to know where they are by now."

Harry did so, hiding a grin. His guardian waved his wand and Harry was wearing pajamas and fuzzy socks. "Now then, go straight to bed. Because whether or not you are exhausted, anxious, or otherwise, you are going to class tomorrow."

Harry said nothing, but Snape caught the hidden smirk. "You have something else to say, Potter?"

"Uh . . . there's no potions class on Wednesday for first years, sir."

Severus merely glared at him.

After the annoying child had closed his eyes, Snape kept vigil through the night, hoping against hope that Skullduggery would manage to shake off the injuries done to him and wake in the morning. Somewhere around two o'clock, Snape succumbed to exhaustion himself and slept, his familiar snuggled in his lap.

He woke several times to check on the familiar, and each time his hope dwindled a bit more as Skullduggery remained unmoving and silent, his glib tongue stilled.

The mantle clock struck six AM, and Severus woke, having felt something flutter beneath his fingers. Ever so slowly, the professor brought his gaze downward, until his dark eyes met another pair. The raven lifted his head and said, "Sev, I feel like dragon dung. Did someone hex me?"

"Are you hungry?"

The raven's head bobbed up and down. "I could eat a hippogriff."

Severus began to smile then, one of his very rare grins, and then he summoned the pain reliever. "Here, I need you to take this. You'll feel better."

"Potions? You know how I hate them," grumbled the bird. His beady eyes peered up at his wizard. "Why do I need it? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Not anymore."

"Huh? Are you all right, Sev?"

"Fine."

Skullduggery cocked his head. "Then why are you crying?"

The professor did not answer. He was too busy hunting in his pocket for a spare handkerchief and trying to convince himself that the tears were from dust particles and not sheer relief that his familiar was awake and on the road to recovery. His hand moved, scratching the bird behind his head. The raven squawked softly, the sound harsh and raspy, but Severus Snape thought it the most beautiful music he had ever heard. And he smiled through his tears.

Harry opened his eyes and sat up, and all the anxiety of the previous night and day attacked him again. He shoved on his glasses and looked about, spotting Severus, still sitting in his chair . . . feeding Skullduggery some chicken. "Skull!" he cried, a smile blooming on his face. "You're alive!"

The raven squawked at him happily. "The rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated, bran-boy."

Harry, who had tears of joy in his eyes, started to laugh uncontrollably, that being the only way he could express what he was feeling other than crying, and he wasn't minded to do any more of that for a long time. He laughed so hard he got the hiccups, and had to hold his breath for three minutes to get rid of them.

Severus raised both eyebrows. "If you're quite finished with the histrionics, Mr. Potter . . ."

Harry blinked. "Err . . . sorry, but I couldn't help it . . . Aren't you happy he's alive, sir?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Only a Gryffindor would ask such an obvious question. Of course I am relieved that he didn't succumb to the poison, however—"

"Relieved, my ass!" Skull interrupted. "Don't let his cool façade fool you, Harry. You should have seen him thirty minutes ago, he—"

"Enough, Skullduggery!" Severus ordered sharply, in a tone that no student would have dared disobey.

The raven ignored him, saying slyly, "—cried like a baby when he saw me awake."

Harry's mouth hung open. "He . . . did?"

"By my ancestors and Queen Anne's head, I swear 'tis true!"

Severus shot a look at his familiar that promised maiming. "Skullduggery, I have a potion simmering in my lab that calls for fresh raven's tongue. Don't make me get out my shears."

"Be still, my heart!" the raven gasped. "He loves me not!" Then he toppled off Snape's wrist and lay still.

"Skull!" Harry cried.

"Skullduggery, quit the dramatics," his master sighed.

The raven was motionless, his feet up in the air.

Snape poked him. "Stop this! Right now!"

Still Skull didn't move.

"Harry, fetch me a match. Perhaps if I light his tail feathers on fire . . ."

Skullduggery opened his eyes and snapped, "Severus Snape, you wouldn't dare!"

The Potions Master smirked. "That one always works."

Skull flipped to his feet. "You're evil!"

"I know." Snape's hand scratched the raven's back gently. "Next time don't go blabbing about me."

"It's only, Harry, Sev. He's family, you don't have to be afraid to show him that you're human. Even warriors cry." Skullduggery crooned, allowing the long fingers to massage the back of his head.

"Bird, you're pushing my last nerve." His wizard growled warningly.

"Well, someone has to." The raven said impudently. He flew up to Snape's shoulder and nipped him gently on the ear.

Harry snickered. He loved it when the two bantered, it was better than watching live comedy. "Did he tell you about your fan mail yet, Skull?"

"Fan mail? I got mail?"

Severus groaned. "You just had to tell him , didn't you?"

"I got mail? From who?"

"A lot of students," Harry indicated the piles of mail upon the table, there were 100 letters in all. "From all the Houses."

Skull preened proudly. "Wow! I'm a celebrity!" he squawked. "I'm so honored . . ."

"Don't let it go to your head," Severus snorted. "Fame is overrated."

The raven laughed, it sounded remarkably like Harry. Then he turned his head so it was upside down and looked into the Potion Master's face. "Say you love me, Sevvy."

"Will you hush your tongue if I do?"

"Promise. Well?"

Severus exhaled sharply. "I love you, Skullduggery. Satisfied?"

"Harry, you're a witness," the raven cackled. "I love you too."

Severus pinned the Boy-Who-Lived with his obsidian stare. "Mr. Potter, if you ever breathe a word of this to anyone . . . you will have detention with me for eternity."

Harry swallowed. "What was that, sir? I didn't hear anything."

"Smart boy," Severus's lips twitched.

"Spoilsport." Skull blew a raspberry at his wizard.

Harry ducked his head to hide the grin that was plastered across his face. He adored the insolent raven, who seemed to be able to gauge just how far he could push Severus without the man exploding into a temper, and yet whose teasing was never cruel or hurtful. Their playful sparring was almost like that between brothers. When he looked up again, he saw that Severus was reading a few of the notes to Skullduggery, and the raven was looking mighty pleased with himself.

"See, your students do care about you, Sev. This one here, it read, Dear Professor Snape, I know you are probably feeling awful right now about Skull, I know because I lost my familiar two months ago, poor Nibbler got run over by a lorry while she was crossing the street after being chased by my neighbor's dog. She was a lovely cat and I still miss her. I hope Skull will make it, because you need him so much, sir. I will be praying to Circe for you to save your raven.

Hannah Abbot," Skullduggery recited.

"Some of them are very kind sentiments," Snape allowed. He had been truly surprised . . . and touched . . . by the letters. He had not thought any of the students, except perhaps his Slytherins and Harry, would care about him losing his familiar. He had even got a letter from Minerva, and from Filius and Hagrid too. He had been too tired and fearful last night to really read the correspondences, but now he took the time to do so, and found that the students were more compassionate than he would have thought. It caused him to feel a strange warmth in his chest. Of course, not all the students had written letters, and he knew that he still had the reputation as a hardass snarky git, but that was all right.

The clock struck eight, and harry glanced at it, and said softly, "Uncle Severus, I was wondering something. That . . .umm . . . Plague Envelope I got? If I didn't open it, would it have still exploded?"

"Yes. Like a Howler, it is timed to go off whether or not the envelope has been opened. You have about twenty-five seconds before it does so, I believe. That was why I was trying to get to you, but unfortunately I could not reach you in time. The only way to have a chance at disarming one would be to use a Blasting or Shredding Curse, as I did with my Howler. But even then, you still might run the risk of getting caught with some dust or liquid upon you, those who sent Plague Envelopes were very clever in making sure their victim got sprayed with whatever nasty virus was inside." Severus' mouth tightened. "That is why, from now on, I shall be inspecting your mail for any hexes, jinxes or curses."

"You're going to open my mail?" Harry cried in dismay. Not that he ever got that much mail, in fact yesterday was the most mail he'd ever gotten, but even so, his mail was . . . it was private!

"No. Not open it, inspect it with magic, to make sure there are no hidden surprises in it. I would never invade your privacy like that, Harry," reassured his professor.

"Oh. Thanks," Harry said, feeling a bit foolish for jumping to conclusions like that. His stomach rumbled loudly and he blushed.

"It would seem we should head to the hall and eat," Severus remarked. "Afterwards, I suggest you brew the potion you missed for my class and then perhaps we could see if Lena or Madam Pince needs our assistance in the library."

"All right, sir," Harry agreed. He would have preferred to spend his Wednesday morning practicing his flying, but he knew Severus' assignment was important, and he loved the library and never really minded being in there.

"What, no arguments about brewing potions when you could be playing Quidditch?"

"I like to fly, and I wouldn't mind the practice, but I know where my priorities lie." Harry said.

"You truly are Lily's son," declared the Potions Master, pleased. He knew quite well that James Potter would rather have been skewered than give up his precious broom for any kind of academics. He pulled on his coat and then his robes, then beckoned to Harry.

Harry led the way out of the dungeons, trying not to run, though he dearly wanted to burst into the hall and shout, "Skull lives!" But he restrained himself, knowing that if he ever did something like that, his guardian would use him for an experimental potion tester. So he contented himself by being the first into the hall and trotting over to the Gryffindor table, where he was bombarded with questions.

"Are you all right, Harry?" asked Hermione, concern in her brown eyes. "That jinx was so nasty."

"I'm fine now." Harry reassured her.

"What about good old Skull?" asked the twins in unison.

"He's not dead, is he?" asked Neville softly.

At that precise moment, Professor Snape entered the hall, Skullduggery gliding overhead to his usual spot on the back of Snape's chair.

"He's back!"

"Skull's back!"

The students whispered, and not a few of them were grinning and some of them cheered as the raven flew by.

All of the staff was smiling, for even though the raven could be a terrible annoyance, they still loved him and never wished him harm. "Skullduggery, my lad! Glad to see you back on your feet," Dumbledore smiled. Then he reached into a pocket and held out a sherbet lemon. "Lemon drop?"

Skull fluttered down and landed neatly in front of Albus on the table. "Don't mind if I do." He gently took the sweet and gulped it down. Then he snitched some bacon off the Headmaster's plate. The Headmaster smiled tolerantly, and further down the table, Severus sighed and shook his head. He never could teach the raven not to steal bits of food. "Incorrigible bird!" he muttered.

"But you love him anyhow," remarked Lena, having observed enough of her colleague's personality by now to know that for the truth.

Severus snorted. He wouldn't bother to comment on that, even though the assistant librarian was dead on target. He busied himself eating his whole grain toast, a piece of ham, and scrambled eggs. Today the coffee was particularly strong, just how he preferred it. Skull returned to eat from his plate, the bird seemed like a bottomless pit today, probably due to the fact that he had not eaten in a day.

"So how is the library coming along, Lena?" asked Minerva.

Lena smiled then. "It's nearly renovated, Minerva. Thanks to all the donations from the students and staff and some of the parents and alumni. Aunt Irma was very excited to hear that the Ministry was going to donate the funds that somehow became . . . misappropriated . . . as the Minister's secretary put it."

Severus frowned. "Misappropriated? Stolen, do they mean?"

"They didn't say that, but . . ."

"It's obvious that is what they meant, only would not admit to," Snape said. "That's very odd, when you think about it. A great deal of money like that, suddenly going missing, and they haven't made any attempt to track it? One would think . . . that someone high up in the Ministry ranks doesn't care to have the library restored."

"Nonsense, Severus!" Minerva said. "Now you're being paranoid, seeing conspiracies everywhere. Why wouldn't the Ministry want the library back? It's their children who will suffer if Hogwarts has no library."

"That might well be true," Severus conceded, but he sensed that he was not mistaken with his theory. Someone wanted the library to remain in a shambles and to Severus that meant one thing—they were hiding something, or trying to prevent information from being available to someone in the school. And he was determined to figure out just what the library had housed that someone was willing to break the law to keep hidden. Severus suspected it must be something either forbidden, like a spellbook of dark magic, or very rare and powerful, like an ancient text. He wondered if Irma might know, as she had been at the library for so long, she had memorized every book in the place. But then, if there was such a book, why was it not in the Restricted section? Unless it had been, and in the destruction, it had been removed from there? For his instincts were telling him the troll might have been sent not only to cause mayhem and hopefully kill Harry, but cause mayhem specifically in that area of the castle.

While Snape pondered possibilities, Harry slowly ate his breakfast. He was trying to recall what potion Snape had the class brewing yesterday, but he had been so terrified about losing Skull that nothing about the potion had registered. He turned to Hermione. "Hermione, what draft did we brew yesterday?"

Hermione paused in eating her cereal. "A Pepperup Potion. Why?"

"Oh. Because I have to brew it right after breakfast."

"But . . . it's Wednesday!" Ron sputtered. "Why would you . . .?"

"Make up work," Harry answered. "Since I missed yesterday's class."

Ron gaped. "Make up work! Snape's gone off the deep end!"

"Actually that's very thoughtful of him," disagreed Hermione.

"Very thoughtful! How can you say that?"

"Because he could've just given Harry a zero."

Harry nodded. "That's true." A month or two before the troll and that's what would have happened.

"It still sucks. I was going to go flying today with Fred and George." Ron lamented.

"Fly while I'm brewing," suggested Harry. "I can fly this afternoon, once I'm done with potions and helping in the library."

Ron gave him an incredulous look. "I don't believe it. The greasy git has corrupted you."

"Don't call him that. I don't mind working in the library. The more I help, the sooner it gets finished. Matter of fact, you could help too, Ron."

"Me too!" Hermione said.

Ron looked pained. "Me, spend a perfectly sunny morning in the library?"

"They have a whole section of Quidditch books," Harry persuaded.

Ron caved. "Oh, all right." Then he returned to eating his crispy potatoes.

Harry quickly finished his eggs and then the small amount of potatoes on his plate before drinking his Nutrient Draft. He knew that somehow Snape was monitoring what he ate as well as how much. It was annoying, but Harry supposed that was what a good parent did . . . except for the Dursleys, who allowed Dudley to eat whatever he wanted.

It took Harry half-an-hour to brew the Pepperup Potion, then once he had cleaned up his workstation and handed in his potion, he and the Potions Master headed up to the library to see what needed doing that morning. To Harry's shock, he saw Malfoy was there as well. "What's he doing here?"

"Malfoy is here because he also wishes to help. I expect you to be civil to one another, am I clear?"

Harry groaned. "Yes, sir."

He spotted Hermione dusting a shelf and Ron wielding a normal broom like it was a Beater's bat.

Lena was at the circulation desk, stamping and tagging various volumes. She looked up as they approached. "Hello, Harry, Severus! Harry, would you like to shelve or dust?"

"I'll shelve," Harry said. He took an almost full cart and began to file.

Severus came and began helping the librarian tag books with a special charm that would make filing the books a whole lot easier. Most of the debris from the cracked stone and floor and furniture had been cleared away, and the library looked almost back to its old self, a thing which Severus and his students were profoundly grateful for. "You have repaired the damage very well, Lena. You are to be commended."

The librarian blushed. "It's not hard to do when you have the money to buy the raw materials and then can use magic to replace what's been broken with them. Aunt Irma and I are so very grateful for all of your help and the donations." Lena said, stamping book with the Hogwarts crest. Because the damage to the library had been so vast, a simple Repairing Charm was not enough to fix it, the two librarians and Flitwick had needed to perform several Switching Charms, among other spells, to mend everything. Then too, with the amount of shelves, study carrols and chairs the troll had smashed, it simply wasn't practical to try and fix all of them with magic, so some of the money had gone into replacing them le

"I think . . . it looks better now than before," she said with a hint of pride.

"It does indeed. After all, the furnishings had previously been here for centuries. Now, nearly everything is new," Severus said.

"Including most of the books," Lena said happily. Then she glanced over to the far right corner of the library, where the battle with the troll had been fought. "I suppose we'll have to recarpet that section, since we can't seem to get the bloodstains out of the floor."

"Have you tried a combination of hydrogen peroxide and Magical Mess Remover?"

"Why, no. I never thought about mixing magical and Muggle cleaning agents," said the assistant librarian. "Will it work, do you think?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise," Snape replied, somewhat snarkily.

"Pardon me, professor, for questioning your expertise on floor cleaners," Lena shot back tartly.

Severus sighed. "Forgive me, Miss Rosario. I was out of line."

Both eyebrows went up then. "You actually apologized to me? I'm told that is a rare occurrence."

"I apologize only when I feel someone is deserving of it; if someone is acting like an idiot, I feel no qualms about telling them so, and I'm not the least bit sorry for it." Severus said honestly.

Lena smirked. "Well, at least you're honest. Apology accepted." She went back to stamping volumes. After a moment or two, she asked, "I know this is a rather personal question, so please forgive my curiosity, but . . .were you frightened when you saw the troll in the library? Why did you not go and fetch help?"

"There wasn't time. The troll was attacking Potter and it would have killed him if I hadn't distracted it. I was frightened, but not for myself. I was afraid I would be too late and the troll would have stomped Harry into the floor. I knew I was the only hope he had of remaining alive, and so I did what any responsible adult would have done and fought the troll."

"Most wizards would have saved their own necks first. I thought Slytherins were all about self-preservation."

"Some are, and some aren't. I am not one to rush in foolishly and risk my life recklessly. But when necessary, I can and will fight to defend my students, to the death if need be. You may call it courage if you like. I call it duty. I have been many things, Lena, some of them I am not proud of, but I do strive to keep my principles. I am not what you would call a typical Slytherin, or what most people assume is a typical Slytherin. I am not arrogant, or power-hungry, or out to get whatever I can by whatever means necessary. I am ambitious about my craft, but there are lines I will not cross, and the safety of my students comes first."

"You don't need to tell me that, Severus. I can see with my own two eyes just how protective you are of your ward and your Slytherins, even the troublesome ones, like Malfoy there."

"Malfoy can be an arrogant brat, but that is in part due to his father's influence. However, I am trying to change that attitude. Time will tell if I am successful. It is the same with Harry, who has a habit of rushing where angels fear to tread. If I can tame that impulsive streak, and keep him safe, I will count myself a decent guardian."

And you care for him more than you will ever admit, she thought. Her mind magics had made her more intuitive, and so she could sense what he refused to say—that he cared very much for both boys, perhaps even loved them, but was unused to expressing those emotions freely. She wondered what had happened to make him so guarded, so careful about revealing his heart. Perhaps he had suffered a great loss? Or even been rejected by one he loved? He was an enigma she wished desperately to solve, though she sensed that would take time. He was not one to give up his secrets easily. So instead she changed the topic to one that had been at the back of her mind for quite some time now.

"At the last meeting of the Society, we were discussing the possibility that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named might have tried to make himself immortal in some way. Perhaps by necromancy? Or a powerful magical item, such as the one Nicholas Flamel the alchemist developed? The Headmaster had quite a bit to do with finding it and it is said that he benefited from making and drinking an elixir from it." Lena said in a very soft voice.

"It is always possible. His name, as you ought to know, means "one who fears death". That has always been his fatal flaw, along with his belief that purebloods are better than anyone else. With him, it is always best to expect the unexpected."

"Then you too believe that he may not be truly dead?"

"Yes. But it is not an opinion shared by many."

"The Society believes."

"I know. Because our members study the old magics, and know that it is possible to preserve a portion of one's mind and soul. That is what—" Severus broke off abruptly. "Mr. Potter, why are you lurking over there in the corner? I warn you, eavesdropping is not tolerated by me. Come here!"

A blushing Harry emerged from the corner behind Severus. "Sorry, sir. I was coming to ask you what I should do next and I didn't want to interrupt."

"What exactly did you hear?" Severus snapped, angry at both Harry and himself.

"Uh . . . something about an object that could make you immortal, a guy name Nicholas Flamel. Oh, and that V—"

"Don't say his name!" cried Severus.

"You-Know-Who might not be dead," Harry finished. "And you and some Society believe it. That's all, sir."

Severus' mouth tightened. "That is more than you should have heard. I want you to promise you won't repeat this to anyone."

"I promise, sir. But . . . what's the Society? Is it like a secret organization to kick the old bastard's arse?"

"Mr. Potter, language!" Severus scowled.

"Sorry. But he is."

Lena put a hand over her mouth. Harry reminded her of her brother on occasion. "It won't do them harm to know," she said, half to herself. "My mother told me about it when I was his age."

Severus still didn't look too happy about it, but before he could protest further, a large brown owl winged its way into the library and delivered a letter to him. Upon opening it, he found it was from Dumbledore. "Please excuse me, Lena. But the Headmaster has something important he wishes to speak with me about. We shall have to continue our discussion at another time."

"That's all right, Severus. One should strive to stay on the Headmaster's good side. If you want to talk some more, you know where to find me." Lena said, sounding a bit wistful. She had not had much time to get to know the staff since her arrival, having been busy trying to get the library back up to par, and she had never made friends easily, being by nature shy and withdrawn because of her mind magic. Severus, because he had spent the most time with her and was a member of the Society, she had begun to trust, and was sorry to see him go.

Severus rose and departed the library, looking quite put out.

Harry immediately took the seat next to the librarian, and said eagerly, "So, will you tell me about this Society now? Please, Lena?"

"Your guardian seems to prefer I not share any information with you, but just between you and me, I find him a tad, shall we say, overprotective." Mischief sparkled in her aqua eyes. "I see no reason why you and your friends here should not know about the Society of Ravens."

"The Society of Ravens?" Hermione had come to see what was being discussed, and was immediately intrigued. "I've never heard of them before. Are they some kind of new organization?"

"Great Ceridwen, no!" Lena laughed. "The Society has been around a very long time, since before this castle was ever built. Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the Founders, was a member. "

"A member of what?" Ron asked, wandering over. He sensed a story in the wind, and placed his broom against the wall and pulled up a chair.

"The Society of Ravens." Hermione replied.

"I've heard of them. My father says they're nothing but a bunch of batty old wizards and witches who study old outdated spellbooks and think they're so smart." Draco said dismissively.

Lena looked over at the blond boy, her eyes flashing, and said, "Your father would be Lucius Malfoy, correct?"

Draco nodded proudly. "He's the Minister's right hand. He's a very important man."

"In politics, no doubt. But his boss, Cornelius Fudge, has never been one to appreciate the Old Ways, he clings to the mediocre like a child to a mother's hand. And thus I'm not surprised that he gathers all the narrowminded purebloods to him. We of the Society believe that there is no one true way to use magic's gift, and we study branches of magic that were abandoned by conventional wizards because they were too difficult or time consuming to master, or the results were not . . . flashy enough for them."

"My father isn't narrowminded!" Draco snapped, glaring at the librarian.

Lena shot him a frown. "Declaring an organization dedicated to wisdom and knowledge a group of batty old wizards and witches simply because he does not follow the Old Ways is being narrowminded. I would also say he holds a grudge because he was never invited to join."

"Why would he want to join your stupid club anyhow?" sneered Draco.

"Why don't you ask him? For now, Mr. Malfoy, I ask that you be silent and listen, otherwise you may leave." Lena said coldly.

"You can't tell me what to do!" Draco began, his tone just shy of pure insolence. "You're not even on the faculty here."

"Shut it, Malfoy!" Ron cried angrily. "She's a librarian here and an adult, and if she wants she can kick your arse right out of the library!"

"Oh, yeah? Says who? Your mum?"

"Mr. Malfoy," said a sharp voice. "If you cannot remember to be quiet in the library, you are going to serve detention with me tonight and I shall see if your memory returns after writing a four foot essay for me about respecting my niece and the rules of the library." They all spun about to see Madam Pince standing there, eyeing Malfoy with a frown. "For your information, boy, I intend to make Lena my permanent assistant, which means she shall draw pay like any other staff member and be able to take points and give detention as well to smug little brats like you. Now, what shall it be? An essay or an apology for behaving like a rude beast?"

Draco scowled, his face heating. At that moment he hated both librarians as well as all the Gryffindors for witnessing his humiliation. But he was not stupid, and so he opted for the apology, which he offered in a rather whiny tone. Then he sat down in a plush armchair he dragged over, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. He was sure whatever Lena had to say would be so boring it would put him to sleep.

"Carry on then, Lena." Irma said, returning to organizing the books upon the cart and then shelving them with a spell.

Lena gave Irma a nod and a grateful look before clearing her throat. "Now then, as I was saying the Society of Ravens has its roots back when the Celts first settled here and claimed this island for their own. Long before Hogwarts and even before Merlin and Arthur Pendragon, the Society was founded by learned men and women in Wales, or Cymru. Some of these were not witches or wizards, but came from families who had the gift, but one of the greatest wizards of that age joined them, and his name was Gwydion of Don. He was apprentice to another great Welsh wizard, Mathonwy, or Math, who taught him one of the Great Words of Power. Back in those days, wizards and witches, or enchantresses as they were often called, were respected and feared by the local Muggles. Muggles often sought out our services when gravely ill or in need of help for personal problems, like disputes over land and inheritance. It was believed that a true wizard or enchantress could not lie, and so our judgments were trusted to be fair. Unless you were of the Dark. Gwydion especially was known for his impartial judgment, and his legend grew in proportion. A few Welsh bards began to make up stories about him and some of these have been passed down and collected in a volume of Welsh mythology called The Mabinogian."

Here, Lena waved her wand and a book popped up on her lap. "This is one of the original handwritten copies of The Mabinogian, it has been preserved with magic, and you may read it in your free time. There are many tales of Gwydion and Math in here, some are true, some are mere fancy, or half-true, since it is the mark of a true bard to embroider the story somewhat and make it their own. It's a fascinating work. The Welsh are great lovers of stories, poetry, and music, and the magical arts flourished there for centuries before the invasion of the Saxons and Vikings and Normans. They do to this very day. I myself have connections on my mother's side to Welsh enchantresses. The Old Ways are very much alive there, and that is where the Society was first founded.

"Part of the reason for this was to preserve certain magical traditions, like elemental magic and divination and the magics of the mind, which were in danger of being forgotten. It was also to collect certain items of Power and preserve knowledge that would have been lost. We are scholars and historians as well as spellcasters. We took as our symbol the Raven, because out of all animals, the Raven is associated with wisdom, knowledge, prophecy and magic."

She flipped over a fold of her robe to reveal a stylized pin made of ebony and gold. It was of a raven in flight, clutching a scroll in its claws. "This pin means that I am a member of the Society, and if you ever see one like it upon another wizard or witch, it means they are dedicated to the highest level of learning and scholarship and can be trusted to have accurate information about esoteric magics and objects. The pin cannot be counterfeited by magic and cannot be worn by one who is of the dark. We are also one of the foremost groups against wielders of the Shadow, and swear an oath to fight them wherever we shall find them."

Hermione was waving her hand in the air. Lena gestured for her to speak. "So did the Society fight in the First Wizard War against You-Know-Who?"

"We did indeed. Many fought and died before the Dark Deceiver met his end. I believe that your mother, Harry, was a student of the old magic, which could be why you survived the Killing Curse. Either that or you possess a great aptitude for the old magic, and that is what enabled you to survive."

Harry hesitated a moment before saying, "Skull calls me bran-boy sometimes."

"Does he? How very interesting," the librarian murmured, eyeing him keenly.

"Huh? He calls you cereal?" Ron frowned.

"Weasley, you're an idiot!" Draco sneered.

Lena shot him a look. "Mocking another for their ignorance, Mr. Malfoy, makes you twice the fool. There is no shame in admitting you don't know something, only shame if you allow yourself to wallow in ignorance." She turned to Ron. "Ron, the word bran in Welsh means raven. Skullduggery was calling Harry raven-boy, a rare thing. Ravens are choosy about whom they associate with. Consider yourself honored."

"Lena, can anyone join the Society?"

"Yes, we make no distinctions of class or race. However, an initiate must be sponsored by a full member, and pass a series of tests as well. There are tests of knowledge, honor, fortitude, wisdom, and magical prowess. A Society member is required to do a great deal of research and study various Muggle myths and legends as well as wizarding ones."

"Why even bother studying Muggle myths?" Draco asked condescendingly. "What good can come of that?"

"Much good, Draco. Muggles are not the ignorant barbarians many purebloods paint them. There is much to respect about their culture and the myths and legends they invented helped a great deal to fostering acceptance and tolerance of magic."

"But Muggles are inferior to wizards!" objected the Slytherin.

Lena shook her head. "No. They are not. They may not have magic's gift, but they are as worthy of respect as any human being. Their knowledge is of a different kind, but different is not inferior. Learning to accept others and celebrate their differences is one of the tenets of the Society. Back before books and writing was invented, stories were the only way Muggles and wizards had of communicating important information. Myths were used as a teaching tool, often to explain the unexplainable, like why the sun rose and set, or how an animal became the way that it is. In Greek mythology, for instance, it is said that the raven was not black, but white in its first incarnation. It was used as a messenger by Apollo, and he sent it to keep an eye upon a certain woman he fancied. When the raven reported back and told the god that the woman no longer desired him and had run off with a mortal, Apollo cursed the raven for being the bearer of bad news and from that day, the raven has been black."

"That's just dumb," Draco sneered.

"In your opinion. In mine, it shows that the Greeks were associating the raven with being a messenger and the bearer of ill omens, two things which a raven is generally known for today. Ravens are respected as being intelligent and wise, by Muggle and wizard alike. There is an old Gaelic saying "there is wisdom in a raven's head", and that is true. Ravens have a rich mythological history, which all initiates are required to study. Ravens are sacred in both wizarding and Muggle culture, it is bad luck to hurt and especially kill one. I know several stories about Raven. How would you like to hear some?"

"That would be lovely!" Hermione grinned.

"Sure!" said Ron.

"Yes, please, Lena." Added Harry.

Draco shrugged. "It's not like I have something better to do."

"So we begin—thus." Lena said, her voice taking on a more formal cant. "In Welsh mythology the raven is the messenger, the sacred bird of Bran the Blessed, the wise counselor, who warns of enemies and accompanies the Morrigan, the Celtic Goddess of War, upon the battlefield. A raven is the most magical of birds, being able to cross between worlds. It can bear a soul to the Underworld upon its wings, and knows many secrets, which it will only reveal to the right person at the right time. In Norse lore, Odin AllFather keeps two ravens as informants, gathering information everywhere as his eyes and ears. Their names are Hugin and Munin, or Thought and Memory.

In the myths of Native America, Raven is revered as deity and it is from there that I shall tell my first tale. This is the story of how Raven Created Man and Woman, it comes from the Tlinglit and Haida tribes. Raven was bored in the realm of the spirits, and so decided to travel to earth to see what he could see that would amuse him. Raven had always had an insatiable appetite, and soon paused over the ocean to find food. He dove into the ocean and found some clam beds which were huge, and poked his beak into them. One of them held some odd-looking creatures that walked on two legs instead of four and Raven drew them from the sea and began to talk to them. The men imitated the raven's sounds and in no time were talking amongst themselves. Raven taught them how to fish and to live off the land and for awhile was content, until he decided that men needed something else. So he flew over the land until he discovered some women trapped in a chiton. He carried them to the men and spent many months teaching them many skills including that of magic. Once he was satisfied they had learned enough, he flew away, but he always returns with a new trick or skill to share with human beings."

Everyone clapped when she was through.

"There is also a tale of how Raven Steals the Sun and brings many useful things to mankind." Lena continued. "Long ago, near the beginning of the world, Gray Eagle was the guardian of the Sun, Moon and Stars, of fresh water, and of fire. Gray Eagle hated people so much that he kept these things hidden. People lived in darkness, without fire and without fresh water.

Gray Eagle had a beautiful daughter, and Raven fell in love with her. In the beginning, Raven was a snow-white bird, and as such, he pleased Gray Eagle's daughter. She invited him to her father's longhouse.

When Raven saw the Sun, Moon and Stars, and fresh water hanging on the sides of Eagle's lodge, he knew what he should do. He watched for his chance to seize them when no one was looking. He stole all of them, and a brand of fire also, and flew out of the longhouse through the smoke hole. As soon as Raven got outside he hung the Sun up in the sky. It made so much light that he was able to fly far out to an island in the middle of the ocean. When the Sun set, he fastened the Moon up in the sky and hung the stars around in different places. By this new light he kept on flying, carrying with him the fresh water and the brand of fire he had stolen.

He flew back over the land. When he had reached the right place, he dropped all the water he had stolen. It fell to the ground and there became the source of all the fresh-water streams and lakes in the world. Then Raven flew on, holding the brand of fire in his bill. The smoke from the fire blew back over his white feathers and made them black. When his bill began to burn, he had to drop the firebrand. It struck rocks and hid itself within them. That is why, if you strike two stones together, sparks of fire will drop out.

Raven's feathers never became white again after they were blackened by the smoke from the firebrand. That is why Raven is now a black bird.

As you can see, Raven is both Creator and Trickster, and helps more than harms. There is no bird cleverer than a raven, or as mysterious. He can be both sarcastic and amusing, or annoying as hell.

"You all know Skullduggery, Professor Snape's familiar, and know both of his penchant for pranks and mimicry. But like every raven born, especially the Greater Tower Raven, he is also the Keeper of Mysteries and Secrets, and a Guide to the Underworld. He is a wise old bird, and if you ask respectfully, he may share his wisdom and knowledge of the old magic with you."

"Has he shared anything with you yet?" asked Harry.

"No, for I have not had time to ask," Lena admitted. "Perhaps when the library is fully functional, I shall. I am sure that he has plenty to share."

Draco snorted, for he still bore no love for the raven after being the butt of tricks.

"If any of you would like to read more about ravens in myths and legends, here is a book for you to borrow called Ravens in World Mythology." Lena Summoned a second book. "If you would like to borrow The Mabinogian as well, you may do so, but please treat this volume with utmost care, as it is very old and rare. You may also like Edgar Allen Poe, a famous American author, he was fascinated by ravens and wrote a famous poem entitled "The Raven". "

"Oh! I've read that one! It was very inspiring . . . and creepy. Thank you for sharing your stories with us, Lena." Hermione said, prompting the rest of her classmates, even sulky Draco, to do the same.

"You are most welcome. Perhaps you may come here every Wednesday and I can share some more stories with you, there are loads about Raven in both Muggle and wizarding tales, and other tales of magical cloaks and items you may be interested in."

All of them agreed to return next Wednesday, for all of them had a love of a well told tale in common.

Harry borrowed The Mabinogian, he had always enjoyed reading mythology, and to his everlasting shock, Malfoy borrowed the book on raven myths.

As they filed out of the library for lunch, Madam Pince hurried over to her niece wearing a knowing smirk and asked, "Lena, dear, are you fishing for potential initiates again? I'll admit, some of those children, especially Granger and Potter would do well as initiates. Even Weasley and Malfoy show potential. Though young Malfoy needs a major attitude adjustment."

"Perhaps, Aunt Irma." Lena said with an enigmatic smile. "Perhaps."

It had been two weeks since Lena had introduced the children to the Society of Ravens, and the young librarian had kept their interest by telling them many tales, not only about Raven, but also the ancient Welsh myths, about Bran the Blessed and Llew the Fair, powerful warriors who followed a code of honor, but who had been tutored by their sorcerer kin and so were comfortable with magic as well as swords.

She told them the story of Blodewedd, or "Flowerface" who was a woman created by magic, using nine different kinds of wildflowers, by the great sorcerers Math and Gwydion for Gwydion's nephew Llew. Llew was under a series of magical bindings by his powerful mother Ariarhod, and one of them was that he could never have a human wife, so Blodewedd was created to circumvent that condition. However, what the two sorcerers failed to realize was that Blodewedd might have been fair, but she lacked the heart and fidelity of a human woman. She was a good wife to Llew for a few months, but then when he left her was swayed by the promises of his enemy, who convinced her to betray her husband. She persuaded him to tell her his deepest secret, how he could be killed, for he had many protections about him. Then she conspired with his enemy to do so, and the fickle-hearted woman nearly succeeded. Near death, Llew transforms into an eagle and flies away, Gwydion tracks him and saves the gravely injured young man from death using knowledge he had gained from many years of study of the Healing Arts. Then he hunted down Blodewedd and transformed her into an owl forever more as punishment. He cursed her with the following saying, "You shall never dare show your face in the light of day again, and as consequences all other birds will shun and harass you wherever they find you. Darkness shall be your companion, but you shall keep your name, Blodewedd, so that all may know and remember your fickle heart!" In Welsh, the name for owl is Blodewedd, and owls do have a face that resembles an opened flower.

"Does that mean the Welsh believe that owls are fickle creatures?" asked Hermione when the tale was done.

"No, of course not!" Lena shook her head. "It's simply an interesting way of explaining why an owl has the face that it does. But the real meat of the tale is the fact that men, even wizards with the best intentions, should not attempt to play God and create a woman, for all we can do, even with magic is a poor imitation, and you can see where that led. It was a sharp lesson that Gwydion and Math learned. Can any of you tell me what that was?"

Hermione of course raised her hand, but Lena turned and called on Harry. "Go on, Harry."

"Umm . . . that even if you have the power to do something, it doesn't mean you should. You need to think before you act."

"Very good! That's a lesson that all the powerful wizards and witches need to remember. It is not enough to wield magic, but to do so responsibly. And as you know, there was one wizard who has forgotten that lesson, and who made others suffer because of it."

"You-Know-Who," Ron whispered.

"Correct, Ron. Power such as his can be deadly, especially when wielded by a proud and arrogant sorcerer who has no respect for rules and morals. We of the Society strive to teach our apprentices that knowledge and pride do not go together, though some knowledge must be kept locked away, for there are those who will use it for their own ends. That's why we have the Restricted Section of the library."

"Are the books in there really that dangerous?" Draco queried with a faint sneer in his voice.

Lena eyed him and said sharply, "Yes, Draco, they are. There are spellbooks in that section with wards on them that could fry your brain were you to glance at a page. There are others which could burn your fingers off if you touch the cover and still others that will suck you within the pages and trap you for a hundred years. Many of those books bear spells of darkness within them, or spells and enchantments too draining for any young wizard to cast."

"Then why have them here?" asked Hermione.

"Because here they are safe from those who would misuse them. And there is some knowledge in them that can be useful in the right hands." The librarian answered. "But you shouldn't concern yourself with those books, Hermione. They are nothing that a young witch needs to traffic with at your age."

"Lena, you said that the Society has magical objects," Ron asked. "Where do you keep them? Do you have your own library or something?"

"Yes. The library is hidden from all save full members with keys, and the magical items we have collected are tagged and stored in a magical vault, only accessible to the Ravenmaster or Ravenmistress. You need their permission to study the collection and nothing is ever allowed outside the vault."

"Is the vault in Gringotts?" was Ron's next question.

"I cannot answer that," Lena told him. "Only Society members know where the vault is hidden, and we are pledged to never reveal its location."

"Have you ever been in it?" asked Harry.

"Once or twice. Every initiate is required to study an item as part of their training."

"Are there stuff like Cerridwen's Cauldron in there?" Harry had read about the magical cauldron in The Mabinogian.

"What kind of cauldron?" Draco frowned.

"It's the cauldron of the goddess Cerridwen, she's the goddess of battle and death. Legend says that if you throw a dead body into it, it'll get resurrected and be able to fight forever and never feel pain and never grow tired." Harry explained.

"Yes, but those who are Cauldron-Born cannot speak and it is said that they have lost their souls, for theirs is no true rebirth, but a half-life only," Lena added. "It is a terrible thing, to use the cauldron for such means."

"But . . . with something like that you could create an undefeatable army," Draco cried, his eyes glowing as he imagined leading such an army.

"True, but you would also break the Balance between Life and Death itself," Lena said sharply. "It's been tried before, young Malfoy, and those who have used the cauldron for ill were boiled alive in it once they were caught."

"How horrible!" Hermione gasped.

"Back then it was considered justice," Lena said. "But Cerridwen's cauldron was not always an item of evil. It could serve up an endless feast for however many guests came knocking on one's door, and brew cauldronsful of mead and other drinks. It could also heal the sick, and when filled with pure water, could be used to scry as well. Often a magical item such as that has many uses, but it only takes one evil-minded wizard to turn the good into bad."

"Where is the cauldron now? Did it really exist?"

"Yes, it does. But where it now lies only the ravens know." Lena answered enigmatically.

Harry wondered if Skullduggery knew. As if his thoughts had summoned the raven, Skull flew into the library, circled the group, and called, "Mistress Bard, 'tis time to let thy students fill thy bellies. For no mind retains knowledge upon an empty stomach."

"Hello, Skullduggery," Lena called up at the raven. "Might I have a word with you later?"

"I would love to stay and chat, however . . . my wizard is held hostage by homework and needs me to keep him from exploding . . ." Skull puffed up his neck feathers, making him look like a feathered ball, and a sound came from his beak remarkably like an explosion. "But I shall return and speak with you anon!"

With that, he fluttered off towards the entrance.

"Anon? What kind of word is that?" Ron looked confused.

"An old-fashioned one," Hermione answered. "Like they used back in Shakespeare's time."

"Who's he?"

Hermione stared at him. "You've never heard of Shakespeare! What school did you go to that you don't know about the Bard, England's most famous playwright and poet?"

"It's not his fault, Hermione. He wasn't raised Muggle like we were," Harry put in.

"I wasn't either and I know who Shakespeare was," Malfoy put in smugly.

"Oooh! Well, aren't you the brainbox, Malfoy?" Ron glared at the other boy.

"Stuff your hat in it, Weasley," Draco scowled, then he stalked from the library.

"Prat!" muttered Ron, before he too left, followed by Harry and Hermione.

Lena shook her head before rising and beginning to alphabetize the books in the new section of the library, upon a revolving shelf, which were all marked with the blazon of a raven flying. The shelf was home to some of the Society of Ravens collection of mythology and history, both magical and Muggle, and contained over a hundred volumes at the present time. They were meant for everyone to read and learn from, in hopes that it might foster cooperation between wizard and Muggle as well as interest in the Society. But so far only the Ravenclaws had checked out any of the books, save for Hermione, Harry, and Draco.

Still, perhaps the students would take more interest in the new books once their end of term exams were over. She straightened, brushing a tendril of honey-colored hair out of her eyes. The library was almost restored, and she looked forward to the day when every volume was shelved and the library fully functional once more.

PageBreak~*~*~*~*~*~*~*PageBreak

That evening

Snape's quarters:

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sitting about a low table, their textbooks, notebooks, quills, and parchment scattered across the table top. All three had wished to study in the quiet of Snape's quarters, the Gryffindor common room was much too loud and boisterous, since several of their older Housemates were more interested in betting on a cutthroat game of Wizard Chess or playing practical jokes than studying. Harry and Hermione had convinced Ron to come with them, despite the chess tournament, because they needed him to help them with Transfiguration, at least Harry did, and he also needed their help with Charms and Potions. Hermione was a decent all-around student, but she really shone in Charms, and Harry was excellent in potions, a fact which made his guardian very proud.

Severus was sitting at his desk, struggling to grade a batch of second-year homework without taking a quill and totally crossing out whole paragraphs where students had simply made up the properties of ingredients rather than read the text. When he looked over at the three, he was relieved to see Hermione demonstrating the wand movements for a Color Change spell, and the boys scribbling down notes and then copying her.

There came a knock on the door.

"Enter."

The door to his quarters opened to admit Malfoy.

"What is it, Draco?" asked Snape.

"Professor, I was just wondering if I could study in here?" Then his eyes widened as he caught sight of the three Gryffindors. "Hey, what are they doing in here? Is it some kind of detention?"

"No, they are studying, like you wish to, Draco." Severus replied.

Ron looked up and groaned. "Aww, Merlin! Don't tell me Malfoy's going to join us?"

"What's that supposed to mean, Weasley?" Draco bristled. "I'm a better student in Defense than all of you, I'd bet!"

"Enough!" Severus' voice was soft, but there was steel in it. "Mr. Weasley, I am the one who decides who is free to study in my quarters. Mr. Malfoy may stay, so long as he agrees to abide by the rules." He fastened a stern look at his Slytherin. "The rules are as follows, you are here to study, not to cause trouble. There will be no insulting, no snide comments, no hexing another student, and no fistfights. If you are rude or disruptive and I have to speak to you about it more than once, I shall throw you out of my quarters by the seat of your trousers, no excuses. And there will be no second chances. You are all old enough to know better and share a common interest in studying and improving your marks on your exams."

Draco's eyes widened. "You're not serious! You wouldn't really throw us out?"

Severus frowned at him. "I mean what I say, Malfoy. If you would like a firsthand demonstration, by all means test me."

Draco gulped. "No, sir."

"Very well then. Go and join the others. I will be grading, so you will refrain from any loud voices. If you need help, you may ask me quietly." He then turned and sat down at his desk, eying the mountain of paperwork with a resigned scowl.

Draco joined the other three at the table, ignoring Ron's unwelcome glare and Harry's scowl and Hermione's sigh. "What are you working on?"

"Charms. Hermione's showing us a Color Change Charm," answered Harry.

"I already know that one." Draco sniffed.

"Who asked you?" Ron growled.

"Just saying." The Slytherin pulled out his Defense text. "My father would sack Quirrell if he knew how little I actually learned in Defense this year. He was so useless!"

The others murmured in agreement.

"It's a good thing I actually learned a few things about defense before coming here," Draco said.

"Like what?" asked Harry.

"Like a Shield Charm."

"Oh! I've read about them!" Hermione cried.

" Brilliant, Granger!" drawled Draco. "But I've actually cast a Shield Charm."

"Could you show us?" the witch asked.

"I could . . . if you'll teach me how to cast an Unlocking Charm?" the Slytherin bargained.

"I will," Hermione agreed.

"All right. Wands out and follow me . . ."

PageBreak~*~*~*~*~*~*PageBreak

"Well, that's the last of the lot," Irma said, waving her wand over the pile of books upon the circulation cart. They immediately alphabetized themselves and arranged themselves on the cart according to section.

The elder librarian stifled a yawn and prepared to roll the cart over to the shelves and begin shelving, since the automatic shelving system did not kick in until twelve o'clock, when the library was closed. She rubbed the back of her neck, it had grown stiff from bending over to shelve books on the very bottom shelf. Most students thought all the shelving was done by magic, and a good deal of it was, with books that were not very old and delicate or having special charms upon them. This last cart, however, contained rare volumes and two or three books from the Restricted Section that Professor Dumbledore and Quirrell had borrowed. Thus, they required human hands to reshelve.

Madam Pince rubbed her glasses, thinking that it grew harder every year for her to keep such late hours. Her body cried out for rest now around ten o'clock. She was reaching for a book, while thinking longingly of a warm bed and a cup of peppermint tea, when her niece said, "Aunt Irma, why don't you turn in? I'll finish up here."

"No need to coddle me, my girl. I'm perfectly capable of shelving these last volumes," Irma said defensively, wondering if it were that obvious that she was getting old.

"I know you are, but sometimes it's good to take a break," Lena persuaded. "You were in meetings all day with that stuffy Minister of Archives, Barry Troutwieler, I'm sure your head is pounding from trying to keep your temper around the old windbag."

"You can say that again!" Irma snorted. "Still, I'm hardly in my dotage."

"Of course not, but you did make me your assistant and what's an assistant for except to do some disagreeable tasks every now and again, like staying up late shelving while you get an extra hour of sleep?"

"Hmm . . . you do have a point . . ." Madam Pince conceded. "Oh, very well. That's what assistants are for. This once, I shall let you finish up. Here's the key for the Restricted Section. Do you know how to deactivate the wards on the shelves?"

"Yes," she took the silvery key from her aunt. "You showed me that two days ago." Lena hung the key about her neck. "Good night, Aunt Irma."

The aging librarian yawned. "Good night, Lena dear. Don't stay up all night researching some obscure spell." Then she waved and left, heading across the hall to her quarters.

Lena hummed, reveling in the smell of old parchment, leather, and ink. She carefully walked back to the Restricted Section, which had now been separated from the rest of the library by a large scrollwork-edged door with a small window set in it and a wall. She inserted the key and entered, closing the door behind her. Rows and rows of books, some with crumbling spines, others that looked newly minted, were shelved here. All of them shimmered to Lena's Mage Sight with ambient magic.

She set her hand upon the first shelf and muttered the word to give her access to the shelves, so the wards would not react to her placing books on the shelf. She carefully shelved an old book which contained several treatises on ways to extend your life span and another about Nicholas Flamel's great discovery of the Sorcerer's Stone and its alchemical properties.

Once that was done, she re-set the wards and left the Restricted Section. The door automatically locked behind her. She Summoned the cart with a wave of her wand, and began to finish the rest of the hub. It was nearly nine, curfew for the first years. It was then that she heard it, a soft sniffling.

Frowning, she cocked her head. "Hello?"

She heard a slight scuffling sound coming from the far right hand corner, where the lamps were dimmest. She hurried over to investigate, fearing a rat or mouse had found its way into the library. She had her wand out, a Repelling Charm on her lips, prepared to eject the rodent from her library with all haste. She detested rats, like most women, and almost all librarians, who regarded them as enemies for they ate parchment and books. But what she found when she rounded the corner was no rat.

It was a rather plump Gryffindor first year, huddled on the floor inbetween a bookshelf and a comfy chair, sobbing into his hands. An open book titled Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger lay beside him.

For one moment, Lena just stared at the distraught student. Then she cleared her throat and said softly, "Surely, it can't be as bad as all that."

The boy nodded, not looking up. "Yes, it can. If I fail potions, my gran will . . . she'll pull me out of Hogwarts . . .she n'Uncle Algia already think I'm a Squib . . ."

Lena knelt next to him. "Oh, I doubt that. You wouldn't be able to cast even small spells if you were a Squib. Just ask Mr. Filch."

"Y'mean, he's one?" Slowly, the boy peeked at her from behind his knees.

"Yes, but you mustn't tell anyone. It'll be our secret," Lena said quickly, only then realizing her mistake. Filch would skewer her if he knew she had told his secret to a student.

"All right." The boy whispered. But then he sniffled again.

"Here." Lena handed him a blue handkerchief. "Now then, suppose you tell me your name and why you think you are going to fail potions?"

"M-My name's Neville Longbottom and I'm going to fail potions because I can't brew anything right. All my cauldrons melt and explode every time and Professor Snape hates me. He thinks I'm hopeless!" Neville wailed. "I . . .I just can't seem to . . . concentrate and . . .and when he hovers over me . . .I just . . .he glares at me and I just go all to pieces. . ."

"Neville, are you afraid of Professor Snape?"

The boy nodded miserably.

Lena frowned. "Why? Has he ever harmed you? Struck you? Hexed you?"

"N-no. He's just . . . looked at me. Like he was disgusted. And he wanted to . . . to use me for potions ingredients. Fred and George said he . . . does that sometimes . . .and that's why some students disappear during his detentions . . ." Neville's eyes were round with horror.

"Oh, good heavens!" Lena sighed. "Neville, listen to me. I know that Professor Snape can be very intimidating, but I doubt if he would ever do anything to truly harm a student, like you describe. He would not have remained a teacher at this school if he were given to . . . murdering students each year. I believe Fred and George were having you on."

"Y'mean, they made it up?"

"Yes. Are they older than you?"

"Uh huh. They're the Weasley twins, two years older than me."

"Ah. I thought as much. They were trying to trick you, Neville. I assure you, Professor Snape doesn't chop up his students or eat them for breakfast."

"He gave me a detention for blowing up my cauldron for the fifth time and he m-made me gut some horned toads. It was . . .disgusting. The smell nearly made me puke."

"I see. Well, that's not so surprising. My Potions Master also made students who misbehaved or didn't pay attention harvest and chop up disgusting ingredients also. Or scrub twenty cauldrons or clean up the floor with a scrub brush and a bucket of water."

"Did you ever get one?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Lena admitted. "I tended to be very talkative in class."

"Oh."

"What kind of things are you having problems with in potions?" she asked then. "Perhaps I can help a bit. I was a decent potion maker in school." Lena said modestly.

"I . . well . . . sometimes I forget how to chop stuff and . . . and how many stirs to give it and then I missed a step when we made the Boil Cure and put my porcupine quills in before I took the cauldron off the fire and it melted . . .the professor makes me nervous, the way he walks about all scowling and then he hovers over my shoulder and I . . .knock things over . . .if I don't pass, Gran will be so disappointed and she'll probably tell me I need a tutor and I really don't want to go home . . . I kind of like it here . . . I've even made some friends . . ."

Lena felt sorry for the child, he was so obviously stressed and terrified of disappointing his grandmother, and his professor as well. "Neville, it seems like you have a bit of potions anxiety. Perhaps you'd do better with some extra lessons in potions, one on one, just you and Professor Snape."

"Extra lessons . . .with Snape . . ." Neville looked as if he were about to pass out.

"Yes. Perhaps alone, you can concentrate better, and the professor will be able to pinpoint where you're having trouble and correct it before it gets to the explosion stage. Sometimes tutoring a student is the best way to help them."

"But . . .Professor Snape would never . . . give me extra lessons . . ."

"Have you ever asked him?"

"No, but . . .I don't think he would . . ."

"You'll never know unless you ask. I'm sure you're not the only student he's had who's blown up a cauldron every class. Why don't we go and ask him now if he would be willing to give you some extra tutoring?"

"Oh, no, ma'am! Please! I don't want to be any trouble."

Lena stared at the white-faced boy. "All right. Calm down, Neville. If you don't feel comfortable asking him, than I shall." She patted him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll sort this out. You're not going to fail potions. I would go over your homework with you tonight, but it's almost curfew and you need to get back to Gryffindor Tower. Do you have potions tomorrow?"

"Yes. In the morning."

"Good. I shall speak with Professor Snape afterwards." Lena told him, helping him up. That way she could also observe the class and see the reason why Neville reacted the way he did towards Snape.

PageBreak~*~*~*~*~*PageBreak

At eight-thirty, Severus dismissed the study group, saying that two-and-a-half hours was plenty of time to study for that night. "You may return tomorrow and study some other subjects if you wish."

"Could you help us with History of Magic next time, sir?" asked Draco, smothering a yawn. "Because all we learn in that class is how to fall asleep faster."

"Binns is so boring!" groaned Harry.

Severus' mouth twitched. "Yes, I am well aware of his soporific tendencies. He taught History of Magic when I was a student here as well. I shall give you some pointers next time. Although one of the most important pieces of advice I can offer you is to tell you that the evening before your exam it is important that you get a decent amount of sleep, and no cramming beforehand. Sleep will cause your body and brain to be alert, and an alert mind remembers things easily. It is also important to eat a proper breakfast, and by that I mean something that contains the four food groups, not just sugar." Here he eyed Harry and Ron, knowing they tended to eat sweets before eggs, toast, and fruit.

Ron rolled his eyes and muttered, "What is it with adults and breakfast? My mum was always on us to eat breakfast too."

"Breakfast, Weasley, jump starts your metabolism and wakes up your brain." Snape answered.

Hermione was nodding. "Breakfast is an important meal, Ron. Studies show that kids who ate breakfast before a test performed better than those that didn't. By about 80%."

"Miss Granger is correct. Now, all of you return to your common rooms, it's nearly curfew. Mr. Potter, stay for a moment, I need to speak with you."

Harry waved at his friends to go on, knowing that Snape would walk him back if it grew too late. The other students departed. "Did I do something wrong, sir?" he asked, looking up at the tall professor.

"Guilty conscience, Harry?"

"No, but . . . usually when you ask a student to stay after class it's because you're about to kick their arse."

"If I were, as you put it, 'about to kick your arse', you would most assuredly know of it beforehand." Severus said dryly. "I wished to discuss setting a ward about your belongings and bed in Gryffindor Tower. I know Professor McGonagall has probably warded the dormitory, but it never hurts to set extra ones. I find that ones I have set myself are usually more effective than ones others have done for me, and best you learn how to defend yourself now."

"That makes sense. All right, I'm ready, Severus."

"This is a standard Repelling Charm, but instead of using it on a specific person, you'll need to make the ward an all-purpose charm that will repel anything which doesn't belong in your bed or on your belongings," Severus explained. "The wand motion you use is this . . ."

He spent ten minutes coaching Harry on setting the ward, making sure the boy could cast the charm correctly before finally dismissing him. "Has anyone attempted to do anything to your bed or belongings since that night?"

"No. But somebody did dump my bookbag out on the floor and spilled all my ink and broke my quills," Harry admitted. "That happened yesterday."

"Put the ward over your bag as well. I trust you have sufficient ink and quills for tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir. McGonagall—I mean Professor McGonagall—got me some more from the supply closet."

Severus nodded, then said, "Off to bed with you. You have potions tomorrow morning and I don't want you sleeping in front of your cauldron."

"Good night, Sev," he gave the Potions Master a cheeky grin and a quick hug before scampering out the door.

The Potions Master rubbed his eyes, which burned from so long staring down at the batch of sorry essays his second years had turned in. He had managed to finish grading both their homework and the first years, but still had his other classes to mark, as well as detention essays that some of his House had earned for trashing the common room the previous night during an unauthorized parchment ball war. He considered staying up to finish them, but then decided to take his own advice for once and get a decent amount of rest.

Skullduggery tapped at the door, and Snape opened it to admit the raven. "You're back. All quiet, my friend?" he queried the bird, who perched upon his shoulder.

"As the grave, Sev," Skull answered in a sepulchral tone, stretching his neck for a scratch from the long fingers. "Not a creature was stirring . . .except Mrs. Norris and the mouse she caught."

"Good." He had been sending the raven out on short patrols about the castle, trying to see if he spotted anything odd in the behavior of the staff. He was almost certain that there was a spy in the school, feeding information to the Dark Lord's allies. "Now I can sleep."

Only for some reason he found it difficult to rest that night and tossed and turned, his mind still wakeful.

"Shall I sing you a lullaby, Sev?" crooned the raven from atop the headboard. "Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop, when the wind blows—"

"Skull, enough," rebuked the wizard mildly.

"Don't like that one? How about—Now I lay me down to sleep—"

"Skullduggery, you are the most annoying bird," grumbled Severus.

"But you love me anyway, don't you?"

"Right now I wish you would shut up."

The raven was silent for about two seconds, then he began to snore loudly, imitating Dumbledore.

"Skull, go to sleep!" snarled the Potions Master. He picked up a quill and threw it at the raven.

Skullduggery dodged it and stopped snoring.

Severus turned over and buried his face in the pillow. Morning came too swiftly as it was.

Above him, the raven hissed, "Fear not, my wizard. I shall keep watch."

PageBreak~*~*~*~*~*PageBreak

Severus finished grading the samples of the first-years and was banishing those that were unusable while trying to massage the headache out of his eyeballs. Today he had tried something different, instead of having the class all brew the same draft, he had divided the class into those who had a talent for brewing and those who did not, and given them different drafts to brew. The talented section brewed a Cough Elixir, the average section brewed a PepperUp Potion. By doing so he hoped to minimize the number of accidents from the average students, like Crabbe, Goyle, Weasley, and Longbottom. It would also challenge the better students and keep them sharp. The class had gone fairly well, Longbottom had not melted another cauldron, though that was only because Snape had been breathing down his neck for the first twenty minutes during the prep stage. The boy's potion had turned out adequate, the first such since the beginning of term. Snape wondered if it were a miracle.

He tucked the homework he had collected into his satchel and was heading out of the classroom to his office when he encountered Lena. "Is there something I can assist you with, Lena?"

"As a matter of fact, there is. May I speak to you privately, Severus?" she asked, her manner crisp and firm.

"Certainly. Come into my office." He led her into his office, he had about an hour before his third year class began. He shut the door and cast a Privacy ward over the room, just in case prying students tried to listen in on their conversation. He set down his satchel and seated himself. "What is it you wished to discuss? More Society business? Or is this about the library?"

Lena coughed and looked rather uncomfortable. "Neither. It's actually about a student of yours. You see, I found him in a corner of the library last night, crying his eyes out, almost hysterical. He told me his name was Neville Longbottom and he was terrified he was going to fail potions this term. He said if that happened, his grandmother would think he was a Squib and pull him out of Hogwarts. I tried to reassure him, I told him to come and ask you for extra tutoring, but he seemed terrified of you, Severus."

Severus scowled. Longbottom again! The boy was like a millstone about his neck. "Lena, the boy has a very nervous disposition. He's scared of his own shadow. If you're implying that I have harmed the boy in any way—" his eyes flashed.

"No, not intentionally, but . . . you can be very intimidating, Severus." She stated, looking him in the eye.

"Yes, what of it? I cannot afford to be anything other than strict with my students. Potions is a dangerous subject, the students must be focused and not fooling about while in class, or else a tragedy may occur. And has in times past. Students have died before I came to teach from exploded cauldrons or misbrewed drafts that have turned toxic. I am their teacher, not their friend, and I have a responsibility to their safety before all else. Longbottom is a walking disaster, madam. I haven't had a more inept, clumsy, addlepated student since Marsha Hawkins, my second year of teaching. When Longbottom enters my classroom, I feel the need to issue protective masks and head gear to the rest of the students."

"Severus, perhaps that is because you are too impatient with him. He fears your displeasure and that in turn makes him so nervous he cannot think straight. I've seen this kind of anxiety before. Surely you can see that barking orders at the boy is only making him worse?"

"Miss Rosario," here Severus's tone became sharp as a dagger. "I have been teaching for over ten years, I think I know the signs of anxiety. However, I cannot afford to spend all my time watching Longbottom when I have a class of nineteen others to supervise. I am very aware that the boy has problems, he is forever exploding and melting cauldrons because of his lack of attention to the formulas. My 'barking' at him, Miss Rosario, is a direct attempt to make him pay more attention and avoid an accident which could prove fatal."

"I understand that, but perhaps what the boy needs is some individualized instruction. If you could tutor him alone, away from the others, he might be able to concentrate better, and you could afford to be more patient with him and try and overcome his anxiety gradually. He told me that your hovering over him makes him nervous."

Severus' scowl deepened. "Indeed? And how, pray tell, am I to inspect his potion if I do not 'hover' over him? If Longbottom is not kept a sharp eye on, you can be sure his potion will be ruined within half-an-hour. Furthermore, I have no leisure time in which to tutor the boy, as I am swamped with work from my seven other classes, plus my duties as Head of Slytherin, and attempting to spend an hour or two with my ward. In addition to that, I also monitor the halls every other night with Mr. Filch."

"It sounds like you need a teaching assistant."

"Perhaps, but they are hardly crawling out of the woodwork. Unless you are volunteering?"

The librarian stiffened at his scoffing tone and snapped, "Why? Do you think I can't do it? I'll have you know I was third in my year in Potions on my NEWTS. If you need help grading homework and such I am perfectly capable of doing so! You needn't act so superior . . . Mr. Snape!" Now she glared at him, in an indignant fury, her Italian temper sparking. "All I'm trying to do is to help a student. Don't you care if Longbottom fails your class?"

"Of course I do! But I hardly need you to interfere with my teaching methods, Miss Rosario!"

"Quit being so stubborn! You say you need an assistant, well, here I am. I have half of my days free now that the library is nearly fully restored, I can grade your homework, so then you have an hour or two free to work with Neville. I don't think he's hopeless, he just needs some encouragement. From you, Professor. You obviously care about your students, so why not show Neville that? The boy's heard all sorts of horror stories about you from older Housemates. Here's your chance to prove them all false. As well as help a student from failing and ruining your reputation as a decent Potions Master."

Severus bristled at her for several minutes, tempted to tell her off. Who did she think she was, coming here and trying to tell him how to teach? But he held his temper by a very slim margin. Because deep down, he knew her assessment was mostly correct. He was impatient with those who did not grasp his subject easily, it frustrated him because brewing was like second nature to him and always had been. It irritated him when students kept making the same errors over and over, because it seemed like they weren't applying themselves or paying attention. It also worried him when he had a student like Longbottom in class, because it was all too easy to cause a bad accident and he would be responsible for the injured children under his care. The worry expressed itself in sharpness and temper.

He met her eyes with a challenging gleam, and replied, "You have a great deal of nerve, Miss Rosario, to presume to tell me how to teach my subject and my students."

"So I've been told," she said dryly. "Will you accept my offer?"

"I need not prove myself to you," Severus said stiffly.

"True. But how about to yourself, Potions Master?"

"You are determined to drive me to drink, aren't you? Has anyone ever told you that you are an exasperating pain-in-arse?"

To his surprise, she chuckled. "My family does, all the time."

"Humph! Why am I not surprised?" he drawled irritably. "Very well. I shall speak to Minerva and arrange a tutoring schedule with her for Longbottom. I shall also tell her of our arrangement. But be warned, you must follow my grading rubric exactly, no deviations. And I have the final say on all the grades, no exceptions."

"Yes, sir, Master Snape," she saluted him. "What time do you wish me to start tomorrow?"

He smirked. "Six-thirty A.M."

She didn't bat an eye. "Shall I meet you in your office?"

"Yes. Be prepared to work."

"I always am, Professor. I'll see you at lunch." With that, she left, leaving an irritated Potions Master staring after her.

He was torn between a grudging respect for her audacity and a desire to shake her till her teeth rattled. But she had pricked his pride, and in truth he didn't want to have a student as terrified of him as Neville was. His reputation as the snarky dungeon bat served him well with recalcitrant and cheeky students, and those who were troublemakers and rule-breakers. Those he did not mind making weep with terror when they saw him coming. But Longbottom was not one of their ilk, and Severus did not enjoy seeing the boy look at him as though he were the Dark Lord come again.

Setting aside his batch of homework, he checked his watch and the schedule he had posted upon the wall of his colleagues' classes. He saw that Minerva was free at this time as well, and tossed down some Floo Powder. "McGonagall's office." Then he stepped through the glowing green flames.

PageBreak~*~*~*~*PageBreak

That evening, as Harry was about to make his way down to Snape's quarters again for his study session, he noticed Neville standing in front of the fireplace in the common room, looking rather shellshocked. "Hey, Nev. Something wrong?"

"Huh?" Neville jumped about a foot. "Oh, it's you, Harry. You startled me."

"Sorry. You look sort of dazed."

"I . . well . . . you see . . . Professor McGonagall just told me that I need some remedial potions lessons on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and . . . uh . . ."

"Oh. That's not a bad thing, right? I mean, you could use the extra practice," Harry said honestly.

"I know, but . . . I have them with . . . Professor Snape." Neville whimpered, saying Snape's name the way another person might have said Voldemort.

"Well, sure you would, Nev. I mean, why wouldn't you? He is our Potions Master. He knows how to help you the best." Harry patted the other on the shoulder. "Quit worrying, Nev. He's not as bad as he makes himself out to be in class. Trust me on that. His bark's worse than his bite . . . most times."

"Maybe to you he's like that. But I'm not brave like you, Harry. I'm afraid of my own shadow. The Hat only put me in Gryffindor 'cause I asked it to, since my mum and dad were in this House."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What House did it originally want you in?"

"Hufflepuff."

"Well, you're a Gryffindor now. The Hat must have seen you have courage, or else it wouldn't have agreed."

"I guess so." Neville looked doubtful. "But I still don't think I have a lot of courage."

There came a sudden flutter of wings and both boys looked up to see Skullduggery perched upon the window of the Tower. The raven peered at the two Gryffindors and said in a quiet voice, "There are many kinds of courage, young wizard. Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow."

Neville smiled shyly at the raven. "Thanks, Skull."

The raven made a purring noise.

Harry grinned and stroked the black bird's feathers. "Where'd you hear that, Skull?"

"It is a quote from Mary Anne Radmacher, an inspirational writer. Severus has read some of her work aloud to me." He winked at the boy. Then his voice shifted, to sound like Snape's. "If you don't hurry, Potter, you shall be late for your study session."

"Right. On my way, Skull. See you later, Neville!" Harry waved and raced out the door.

PageBreak~*~*~*~*PageBreak

Tuesday night, the following week:

Severus was waiting in his classroom at seven o'clock, next to his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. This was his first tutoring session with Longbottom, and the boy was late. He heaved a sigh. Students who were chronically late always annoyed him. Didn't Longbottom know how to tell time?

There came a timid knock on the door, and then Neville entered. The boy was rumpled, his tie askew, his moon face red from having run as quickly as he could across the grounds and down to the dungeons. "S-Sorry I'm late, sir . . . was helping Professor Sprout . . ." Neville gasped, struggling to catch his breath. He began to wheeze.

Suddenly Snape was beside him, taking his arm and leading him to a chair. "Sit. Put your head between your knees and take a deep breath. Slowly." The professor's voice was soft, lacking its usual scornful bite. Neville found himself obeying the tone immediately. He managed to take a deep breath.

"Good. Again."

Neville drew in another breath and then another, until he was breathing normally again. Some of the red hectic flush faded from his cheeks and he peered warily up at his tall professor. He expected some sarcastic comment and half-cringed.

But Snape merely raised an eyebrow and said, "Next time you are working with a professor and know you will be late, have them send a note to me or Floo me. That way you won't need to run yourself into the ground, Longbottom."

"Yes, sir." Neville squeaked. He gulped hard.

Then he blinked as Snape held out something to him. It was a cup of water. He took the cup and sipped it gratefully. Then he wondered why Snape wasn't sneering at him. Could Harry have been right after all? "Th-thank you, sir."

"No need to thank me, Longbottom. Dying will not save you from taking my exam."

Neville nodded quickly. He had no doubt that Snape would come and fetch him from beyond the Veil just so he could finish his potions final. "No, sir."

Severus bit back a sigh. He had intended that as a joke, but apparently the boy didn't share his dry wit. "All right, Longbottom." He waved his wand at the chalkboard and a Sleeping Draught wrote itself upon the board. "Look here. This is a standard Sleeping Draught, one that all first years should be able to brew by the end of the term. Professor Sprout tells me you are good in Herbology. Tell me what the properties of these herbs are and what they do."

Neville peered at the board and read slowly. The herbs in the Sleeping Draught were chamomile, lavender, valerian, and passion flower. He explained the properties of each in a soft voice, that started out uncertain and shaky but gained confidence by the end of the recitation.

"Correct. Knowing the properties of ingredients is the first step in becoming a decent potion maker," Snape instructed. "Once you know what the ingredients do, you can determine how they react. Go and fetch the ingredients from the back cabinet."

Neville rose hastily, tripped over his robe hem, and almost fell on top of the professor. Horrified, he trembled and waited for Snape to bellow at him and call him a dunderhead that couldn't even walk straight. But all Snape did was take him by the shoulders to steady him and point to the cabinet.

Flushing scarlet, Neville hurried to the cabinet. His stomach was still in knots, but so far the professor hadn't lashed him with his tongue.

Once the ingredients were gathered, Snape told Neville to begin preparing them, making sure he read the instructions carefully. The professor watched, standing a few feet away, trying not hover so much. "Take your time. There is no need to rush."

Neville began to cut up the valerian roots, wrinkling his nose at the disgusting smell.

"Usually it is best to chop or grind all your ingredients before you begin adding them to the cauldron. Also make sure you check the flame, you do not want your potion to scorch."

"Yes, sir."

Neville finished chopping and grinding, then began to add the ingredients.

"Stop!" Snape ordered.

Neville froze. The Potions Master was frowning. "S-sir?"

"What did you forget?"

Neville bit his lip. "I . . .I . . .oh! The fire! I forgot to check it! And the water too!"

He quickly checked the flame level and filled the cauldron with the required amount of water. Then he re-read the directions.

Snape watched as Longbottom added each ingredient. Occasionally, the boy would slide his gaze over to him, as if confirming that the professor was still there. Severus was silent, allowing the boy to proceed at his own pace.

Neville was still nervous, but he managed to finish brewing the potion, allowing it to simmer for ten minutes. He looked up at his teacher, wide-eyed.

"Not bad, Longbottom." Severus praised. "I believe this is the first time you have brewed a successful potion."

Neville looked at the cauldron in astonishment. "I did?"

"Yes."

"Merlin, I really did!" the boy said, his voice full of amazement. "I guess I'm not so hopeless."

"No. Now that you have seen you can brew one potion properly, let us see if you can do it again, without prompting." Snape waved his wand and bottled the fresh draft. "Begin."

Neville practically ran to the cabinet, a smile blossoming across his face. On his return trip back to his workstation, he saw his professor with a—dare he think it—pleased expression upon his saturnine features. He paused and gaped up at the man.

"Longbottom, what are you staring at?" Severus demanded, waving a hand impatiently. "That potion won't brew itself."

"Nothing, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Quit apologizing and brew," the other ordered gruffly.

Neville hurried over to the workstation, and set to work, only this time his movements were a bit surer and more confident.

Perhaps he had been too hasty and misjudged the boy, the professor thought. Longbottom did work better alone and without the sharp edge of his tongue. Snape felt a warm glow of satisfaction stirring within him. If he could manage to bring Longbottom up to a competent standard, he would prove that he was capable of teaching even the most difficult student. To himself, of course. Severus almost smiled then.

So did someone else who was observing silently from the corner of the lab, hidden beneath a Shadowed Charm. Lena smiled, and thought that she had misjudged the professor, and was sorry she had quarreled with him. She had not thought he would succeed, based upon what she had observed of his teaching methods in class. She had been wrong. When he wished, Severus could be quite patient. It was too bad, though, that the man rarely showed this side to anyone, except perhaps his ward and his familiar.

The librarian-turned-potions-assistant slipped away while the professor's back was turned, demonstrating the proper way to stir a cauldron, smoothly and with a firm swirling motion. Once outside the classroom, she cancelled her charms. The professor was a man of his word. Hiding a grin, she hurried back to his office to pick up another batch of homework to grade. She was certain that if he caught her shirking, he would not spare her the razor edge of his tongue. And rightly so.

PageBreak~*~*~*~*PageBreak

Severus caught Lena mid-yawn over a student's parchment when he returned to his office after the tutoring session. "Working overtime, Miss Rosario? Or are you finding the students' essays as boring as Professor Binns' lectures?"

His new assistant looked up, blinking owlishly behind her spectacles. "Huh? Oh, no I wasn't really bored . . . some of the students have rather . . . err . . . shall we say . . . unconventional explanations for their potions reagents . . ." She stifled another yawn.

Severus snorted. "There is no need to be diplomatic. I know full well how bloody boring they are, which is why I tend to grade with a large cup of coffee at my elbow. Sometimes that's the only thing keeping my eyes from shutting, unless I take a Stimulant Draft."

Lena bit her lip, looking like a guilty schoolgirl. "Fine. I admit it. This is worse than memorizing Caesar's Commentary on Gaul. I don't know how you do it, Professor Snape. Every day, I mean. This requires immense dedication. I don't think I could make a good teacher." She lifted her eyes and met his. "I owe you an apology. I misjudged you."

"Oh? In what way?"

"I did not think you would be able to keep your temper while tutoring. I was wrong."

"You have been spying upon me?" Severus scowled at her. The blasted witch did not trust him. Of all the nerve!

"Guilty as charged, sir," she admitted, flushing. "Curiosity had always been my bane. As has my temper. You are more than what you seem, Professor Snape."

"Aren't we all?" he drawled, with just the hint of a smile. "And it's Severus, Lena."

"Friends?" she held out a hand.

"Friends," he clasped hers in his own. "Now finish those essays."

She scowled. "Has anyone ever told you that you are a bloody slavedriver?"

"Quit complaining, Rosario. You agreed to this." He turned to leave, flicking his wand as he did so.

An extra-large mug of steaming coffee with milk and two sugars appeared on the desk at her elbow. Before she could say anything, he was gone, black robes billowing.

Irma's quarters

Christmas morning:

"Do come in, Severus and Harry!" Irma greeted, she was wearing a quilted blue robe with stylized ravens and eagles imprinted on it, and matching shoes. She looked quite relaxed, her nez pince glasses hanging on a gold cord about her neck. Her graying brown hair, normally in a severe bun, was pulled back in a casual tail and decorated with a pretty blue ribbon. "And Skullduggery too!" she added as the raven glided down to alight on his wizard's shoulder. "Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas, Irma. Thank you for inviting us," Severus said, giving her a slight bow.

"Happy Christmas, Madam Pince," Harry said politely, following his guardian's suit.

"Come, Lena is just finishing setting the table." Madam Pince beckoned them into her sitting room.

"Merry Christmas to all here!" Skull called.

Harry looked about curiously, for he had never been inside Madam Pince's quarters. To his surprise, the librarian's sitting room was cozy and warm—done with deep gold earth tones and navy blue covered furniture accented with golden oak. The fire was blazing, lending both warmth and a sweet apple and cinnamon scent to the air. The mantle was decorated by swags of fir and holly, wrapped with light blue and silver ribbon and ornaments. Along the right hand corner was a large bookshelf filled with many leatherbound volumes, a wingback chair sat next to them, along with a small reading table and a tall wrought iron lamp.

The sofa had been moved to accommodate a large round table filled with all sorts of breakfast foods, and carafes of tea, coffee, juice, and cappuccino and espresso. Lena was there, arranging the china, which was gold with a blue leaf pattern, and silverware. Four chairs were set about the table, as well as perch for Skullduggery.

Lena looked up at their entrance, a smile stealing over her features. She was dressed in a frosted blue gown, simple yet elegant with tapering sleeves and seed pearls and crystals lining the top of the bodice. Hanging about her neck upon a velvet ribbon was a silver and gold raven charm. Her hair was loose and flowing and she had a headband decorated with silvery snowflakes about it. The dress set off her honey-gold hair and made her eyes even bluer. She wore long silver bells in her ears that chimed gently when she moved. "Happy Christmas, Severus, Harry, and Skullduggery! Or, as my father would say, Buon Natale!"

"Grazie, signorina Rosario." Severus said, giving his colleague an appreciative smile. "Lei e bellissima."

Lena blushed. "You are too kind, sir. That robe becomes you exceedingly well. Green is definitely your color. I wasn't aware you spoke Italian, Severus."

"Only a little." Severus replied. "I have just about exhausted my knowledge of it."

"Please, sit down. I'm so glad you could come. My mother sent all of this to me and Aunt Irma, much of it is homemade; she thinks we starve here at school." Lena chuckled and indicated all the silver trays and bowls.

"Doesn't she know about the house elves?" Harry blurted.

"Of course, but she claims that magic cannot replace authentic Italian cooking. Thus, the Christmas breakfast baskets."

Once they were all seated, Lena asked what everyone wished to drink.

Severus had espresso, Irma some cinnamon spice tea, and Lena and Harry had cappuccino.

To his surprise, Harry found the cappuccino delightful, not horrendously bitter, but mellow and creamy and with the right amount of sugar, satisfyingly sweet. "Lena, it's . . .wonderful!"

"Isn't it? I miss making a freshly brewed pot every morning," she said, sipping her own. "This was made by my dad and shipped through Express Post. I know the elves would try and make it if I asked, but as Mum always says, there are somethings magic cannot duplicate and this is one of them."

"I quite agree," Severus said, drinking down his espresso. "This is superb, I haven't had espresso since I attended an International Potions Conference two years ago." He poured himself another shot.

Harry eyed the tiny cup and said, puzzled, "Uncle Sev, why is the cup so small? It looks like hardly a mouthful."

"It's small because it's very strong," Severus answered. "You probably wouldn't like it."

"May I try?" Harry asked.

Lena floated a cup over to him. He sipped it and grimaced. "Ugh! How can you drink that?"

Severus smirked. "You know how I like my coffee, Harry."

"Yeah, but . . . that stuff could strip paint." His ward said, then took a long drink of his cappuccino.

"Help yourselves," Irma said.

There were platters of crispy bacon and fat grilled Italian sausage with sage, there were apricot and almond biscotti, as well as chocolate ones. There was a large cast iron skillet with something called frittata, an Italian omelet with eggs, zucchini, onion, peppers, and a layer of crunchy potatoes on the bottom, seasoned with garlic and other spices and sprinkled with cheddar cheese. There were warm rolls, with several spreads, like Welsh rarebit, and Seville orange marmalade, butter, and clotted cream. There was a lovely basket of fresh fruit, it contained figs, apples, winter plums, nectarines, grapes, and bananas. There was cinnamon French toast with golden syrup or honey to spread on it.

Severus fixed a small plate for Skull, with pieces of sausage, bacon, the omelet, and pieces of nectarine, grapes , and French toast. He levitated it over to the raven's perch and Skull began to eat hungrily, making happy noises of satisfaction.

Harry couldn't believe how delicious everything was. He tried a little of everything and then went back for seconds. He noticed that Severus did also, and some of his choices were also Harry's favorites as well, like the frittata and sausage. Harry loved the winter plums, which were sweet and juicy with deep red inside. "These are amazing!"

Lena chuckled. "Yes, the plums are always my favorite too."

"I prefer nectarines and the figs," Severus said, eating another of each. Then he pushed his plate away. "If I eat any more, I won't be able to move. This was a fabulous meal, ladies. I have never had better."

"Me either," said Harry.

"It was delicious!" Skull squawked in agreement, nibbling upon a biscotti.

"Thank you for the lovely book, Severus," Lena said. "I have never seen an illuminated manuscript of Thomas More's Utopia. It's gorgeous."

"And thank you for the coffee package," Severus said. "I shall make good use of it."

Just then, there came a loud hoot outside the door, and Irma opened it to see a large gray owl hovering with a small package. It flew in and delivered it to Harry, dropping it in his lap before flying off again.

Harry examined the package, then looked at Severus and said, "It's from Wizarding Occulars. I think it's my new glasses."

"About time!" Skull remarked.

Harry opened the package, and sure enough, there were his brand new glasses with slender gold wire frames. They were neat looking and best of all, he could see much better with them on. He removed his old ones and put his new ones on. "Wow! Everything's so much clearer!"

"And you look much handsomer with them," Irma teased. "Funny, how a new pair of glasses can make you feel like a different person."

Harry looked down at his old ones. "What do I do with these?"

"Throw them out," Severus said. He waved his wand and Harry's old glasses vanished.

Skullduggery peered at Harry and said, "Now you can see with the eyes of a falcon, bran-boy." Abruptly he turned about and tugged on a smallish tail feather. He presented it to Harry. "Here. A present from me. You can make it into a quill, Sev can show you how. Spells and potion recipes written with a raven quill can only be read by the holder, it's the ultimate way to disguise your thoughts and personal inventions. Also, when necessary, you can use a quill for defense, place a Sharpness Charm on it and you'll have a fine weapon, better than any knife."

Harry's eyes widened. "Thanks, Skull! That's wicked!"

Skull made a curious trilling and gurgling sound, it sounded like kmmm-grrr.

Lena eyed the raven thoughtfully. "Skullduggery, is it true that ravens have their own tongue, one that is different from the way other birds communicate?"

The raven bobbed his head affirmatively. "It is, Mistress. We call it Ravenspeak, and we were using vocal language long before humans. In fact, there is a legend about Raven teaching humans to speak properly."

"That's fascinating!" Lena exclaimed. "That sound you made just before, was that something in Ravenspeak?"

"It was. It was a vocalization of affection, for I do love Harry and Sev best." Skull answered.

"This Ravenspeak . . . can anyone learn it?" asked Irma.

"If they are patient and listen well, yes. Sev knows Ravenspeak, I taught him myself when first I chose him. It is difficult for humans to reproduce the sounds, but you can learn to comprehend it."

"Could you teach us?" Lena asked eagerly, sounding like an excited child.

"I can. I shall begin by telling you that Ravenspeak is comprised of both calls and posture, fluffing of feathers and so forth. Here. This means, hello and I love you." He walked over to Harry and bumped his head against Harry's forehead and made the odd trilling purr again.

Then Skull stepped back and posed, fluffing his feathers up and making his ear feathers stand erect, looking as if he were sporting horns on his head. "Knock knock knock." He made a curious sound like the rapping of a fist on a door.

"That means "look at me" and is a raven's power call." Severus explained. "They use that along with the posture to show rank and dominance among a flock of ravens."

"A flock of ravens is sometimes called a conspiracy," Lena said. "I know that much from my reading."

"Yes, that's right." Skull agreed. "Or, if you are speaking of the ravens that live about the Tower in London, where my family still dwells, they call us a constable. Because we watch and guard against the dark."

"Skull what are those feathers on your head? They look kind of like horns," observed Harry.

"These?" the raven playfully waggled them. "Long ago, some silly superstitious humans thought it meant we were devil birds." He made a sarcastic hoot. "Stupid! We are the ones who guard against the dark. We are not in league with them." He ruffled his feathers and his ear feathers flattened.

"What else can you say in Ravenspeak?" Irma asked. "And do you mind if I take notes? I would love to write a paper on it."

The bird clicked his tongue and said, "So long as your paper is for members of the Society only."

"Of course. You honor us." Irma said, inclining her head in respect.

"Here's a call you all should be familiar with." Skullduggery said, and puffed out his chest and gave a very loud cackle. "KEK KEK KEK!"

"That's a raven's alarm call. It means "danger" or "get away from here"." Severus translated.

"We give that call when we don't care for someone visiting the Tower," Skull added. "Or sometimes we use this call-ca ca ca ca. That means—I am angry, and wish to bite you, or leave me alone, idiot!"

Harry laughed at that. "I've heard you give that cry before, when Malfoy attacked me that night."

"Indeed," Skull snorted. "And then I nipped him, the rotten brat!"

He then proceeded to make some crooning and small growling noises which he said were how a parent raven spoke to a nestling and sounded remarkably like a lullaby. The nestling's reply sounded very like a baby wailing. He showed her the typical strutting posture most people were familiar with, and the puffed up hissing posture that was meant to frighten away enemies, especially other birds intent upon harming their young. He also showed them the flattened feathers and lowered head of a submissive young raven.

Irma wrote down everything Severus and Skullduggery told her, later she would transcribe the information into a concise paper about Ravenspeak. "I believe many of our scholars in the Society would love to learn about this."

"Thank you, Skull, for teaching us," Lena said.

The raven ducked his head, almost as if he were embarrassed. Then he cawed, "It was my pleasure."

All in all, it was a wonderful Christmas breakfast, the first Harry could remember where he didn't have to cook or clean or get scolded by his aunt or uncle.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

Later, he went and found Ron and told him about his presents and showed him his new room. The red-haired wizard was very impressed. "Blimey, Harry! It's so big!" He bounced upon the bed. "Who would have thought Snape would give you such a nice room?"

"He said that everyone needs a room of their own and this is what he would do if I . . . were really his son." Harry said quietly.

Ron's eyebrows rose into his hair. "Really? Then I guess . . . he really does care for you. I'm glad, Harry. Your relatives sound like nasty buggers, you're well shut of them."

"Don't I know it!" Harry bounced on the other side of the bed, just because he could.

"Let's go play in the snow, Harry," suggested Ron. "There's a fresh coat of snow."

Harry agreed and the two friends raced out of Snape's quarters and through the dungeons until they reached the Entrance Hall. There they met the twins and their potions professor, who had just come from Dumbledore's office.

Severus frowned at his ward. "And just where are you two going?"

"To play outside, sir," Ron answered.

"Not without a coat, scarf, gloves and a hat you aren't," the professor reminded.

Only then did both boys realize they weren't dressed properly and they groaned.

"Blast! I left my coat and everything in my room!" Harry cried in dismay.

Severus Summoned them as well as Ron's things. "There! You may play outside until dinner. In the meantime, I am going to read."

"Have fun!" Harry grinned, knowing Severus was going to relax with his magazine and probably a cup of coffee.

Ron yanked his cap down over his eyes, then dashed away out the door. "Harry, come and get me!"

Harry shoved up his hat then raced after his friend.

The twins decided to join them, mostly for the fun of tackling their little brother into snow drifts.

The four boys threw snowballs at each other, made snow people, and even a wizard snowman, complete with a snow owl on its arm.

Fred and George challenged Ron and Harry to a snow war, and built snow forts at opposite ends of the Quidditch pitch. Then they began to battle.

At first, Harry and Ron got the worst of it, because the twins were devilishly coordinated and threw snowballs at a furious rate. Despite all they could do, Fred and George had them pinned down.

Until a dark shape zoomed overhead, and began dropping snow-coated pinecones down upon the twins, cawing loudly—KEK KEK KEK!

"Ow!"

"Hey, Skull, what's up?"

The raven flew overhead, doing aerial acrobatics. He flipped over, somersaulting on the air, flew backwards, then grabbed some snow off a branch and dive bombed, scoring a direct hit in George's eye. "Bullseye!"

"Whoo hoo!" Ron yelled. "Way to go, Skull!"

"Score one for the raven!" Harry whooped. "Do it again, Skull!"

The raven made a clicking noise and flew off to grab more pinecones.

With Skullduggery's aerial assistance, Harry and Ron were victorious.

The twins were good sports however, and congratulated them and their sneaky conspirator. They put their arms about Harry and Ron and escorted them back to the castle, as it was close to dinner. Skullduggery flew overhead.

"Clever, baby brother!" chuckled Fred.

"You sure had us fooled!" George agreed. They winked at each other.

"Never start a war with a raven," Ron boasted.

"True!"

Then Ron and Harry yelped as the twins dumped the snow they had hidden in their gloves down the boys' backs.

"Ahhh! Fred, you prat!" Ron cried, wriggling to try and get the snow off.

"Now don't say I never gave you anything, Ronnie!"

Harry was shivering and jumping up and down. "Ohh! It's freezing!"

Laughing, the twins darted inside, leaving the younger wizards to help each other remove the snow down their necks and back.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

Dinner in the Great Hall was incredible. The hall was decorated with at least eighteen Christmas trees of all sizes, some with real snow on them and others with twinkling magical lights and pretty ornaments. The walls were festooned with holly, ivy, and evergreen boughs. There was even a mistletoe hanging up in the middle of the room. Soft festive music played as the staff and the students remaining at the school entered.

Harry hesitated as the Weasleys—Ron, the twins, and Percy—sat down at the Gryffindor table. Should he sit with his friends, or with his guardian at the High Table?

Percy saw his indecision and said, "Go on Harry, go and sit with Professor Snape. It's traditional for family to sit together for Christmas dinner. Since you have a guardian on staff, you get to sit up there with him."

Harry looked up at the staff table and saw an extra place was laid beside Severus' chair, inbetween him and McGonagall. "See you later, Ron," he waved and then hurried up to the high table. Severus, Lena, and Irma appeared in the hall a few moments later. Skull was flying over their heads, singing "We Three Kings", and other Christmas carols in different voices.

He circled the staff table and landed on the arm of Harry's chair, singing "Away in a Manger" lustily. "Hey, bran-boy! How are you enjoying your Christmas?"

"It's been . . . amazing, Skull."

"Good! But just wait till you see the feast."

As if on cue, the food appeared on all the tables in the hall.

Harry nearly toppled over.

There were over a hundred turkeys, roasted to a golden crisp perfection. There were boats of rich gravy and sweet cranberry sauce. Mountains of mashed and roasted potatoes, buttered peas, and stuffing were served. At each plate was a wizard cracker and more were stacked in the center.

"Oooh! A wizard cracker!" exclaimed Skull, looking like a kid seeing a forbidden treat. "Here, Harry, I shall pull one end." The raven grasped the red ribbon at one end in his beak. Then he walked backwards, tugging hard.

Harry pulled the other end, and the cracker exploded with a tremendous bang and a cloud of purple smoke.

Harry coughed, waving away the smoke, and found three white mice and a wizard chess set inside. "Awesome! Are they all like this?" he asked the raven.

"They all have different prizes inside. Yum! A mice appetizer!" Skull trilled, then he proceeded to swoop down upon the mice, catching two by their tails in his beak and one in his talons. He then flew up to perch in the rafters to eat his appetizer, one of a raven's favorite foods was mice.

"Well done, Harry!" clapped Dumbledore. He had exchanged his pointed hat for a poinsettia-bedecked broadbrimmed one. He laughed at a joke Flitwick told him, looking very jolly.

Harry looked up when Snape joined him, the professor gallantly assisted Lena into her seat before he sat in his own.

"Are you going to pull your cracker, Uncle Severus?" Harry asked.

Severus shook his head. He really was too old for all this cracker nonsense, but he told Harry to grab one end and together they pulled it.

This time the cracker gave a whistle like a train, loud and long and shot colored sparks when it exploded.

Inside was a neon chameleon and a hat shaped like a cauldron that shot green and silver bubbles into the air. Severus quickly corralled the chameleon, and stuck the animal into a pocket. Chameleons were prized in potion making for their skin. He looked at the hat in distaste. "Does he really expect me to put this on?" he grumbled.

"Why not?" Harry smirked. "It's perfect for you!"

"Please," Severus rolled his eyes.

"Put it on, Sev! It's tradition!" urged his familiar.

Snape scowled. "I don't believe in this tradition."

"Oh, Severus, you must wear it," Lena said. "It's just for fun, look at the ridiculous necklace I'm wearing." She indicated the chicken foot necklace she had on, it was withered and ugly and it had a candy-cane colored ribbon attached to it with some feathers.

"Merlin, woman!" Severus gasped. "That is repulsive!"

"I know, but who cares?" she laughed. "Come on, Snape. Join the party!"

Muttering something under his breath, Severus picked up the bubbling cauldron hat and put it on.

"You look smashing, Severus," Lena giggled.

"Man, you are smokin'!" Skull whooped in his best gangster imitation. He began flying about popping the bubbles. "It's the Voodoo Queen and the Cauldron King!"

Harry turned away, trying to muffle his giggles.

"Why, Severus, are you starting a new trend?" McGonagall teased.

Severus just rolled his eyes.

"Good show, Severus!" Dumbledore applauded. "I was hoping you'd open that one."

When everyone had opened their crackers, Dumbledore gestured for them to all start eating.

Severus quickly removed the cauldron derby and stuck it into the middle of the table. He then helped himself to some turkey and the other sides, his face tinged a faint red. He turned to his ward, who was still snickering into his napkin. "Harry, quit sniggering and eat." He waved his wand and a Nutrient Potion popped up. "But first, drink this."

Harry obeyed. Then he dug into the feast. After the main course came thirty flaming Christmas puddings and small handheld apple pies. There was strawberry shortcake as well, though Skullduggery flew down and snitched the strawberry right off the top of one. Sparkling fruit punch was served to the children and the adults had cranberry Christmas wine.

Harry was allowed to open four more crackers, inside he received a pair of Ever-Warming Socks, which always kept your feet warm even in the snow, he also got a Grow Your Own Venomous Tantagula kit, and the last item was a plush snake, it was silvery gray with red eyes, resembling an ashwinder. Harry tucked his loot into a canvas bag he won in a cracker and set it by his feet.

He happily ate a slice of pudding, and then a pie. Even Severus indulged himself and ate some pie. Skullduggery was served a slice of pudding and plucked a silver Sickle from it. "Ha! I'm lucky!" He loved shiny things, like any raven, and happily tossed the coin up in the air and caught it in his beak.

After dinner, Harry opted to return to Gryffindor Tower and play wizard chess with Ron. "But I'll be back to sleep in my new room," he reassured Severus, not wanting the man to think he was snubbing him or being unappreciative.

"Off with you, child. I would hardly expect you to remain with me every moment as if you were a toddler." Severus waved him off.

Harry scampered off with the Weasleys and spent the evening getting his arse kicked by Ron in chess. But they also had lots of fun toasting marshmallows over the fire in the common room, and they ate a light supper together of sandwiches, crisps, trifle, and Christmas cake.

The clock struck ten and Harry found himself yawning over his chess board. "Guess I better get some sleep," he told his friend, packing away his set. "G'night, Ron. I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast."

He made his way down the stairs to Snape's quarters, the school felt eerie without the rest of the students there, and once or twice Harry froze and glanced behind him. He felt oddly as if eyes were following him or watching him, even though there were no portraits along the dungeon walls. He clutched his wand in one hand and half-ran through the dungeons until he reached Snape's suite. Then he leaned against the door, getting his breath back and chiding himself for acting like a scaredycat. He'd had too much sugar and his imagination was running away with him, conjuring up phantoms.

But he breathed a soft sigh of relief when he turned the doorknob and entered the room, safe at last.

He found Severus still up, reading from a thick tome, and a cup of Black Diamond was at his elbow. Skull was dozing on the sofa back, his head tucked under his wing. He opened one eye and lifted his head long enough to discern it was Harry returning, then fell asleep again.

"I'm back."

"Obviously," Severus drawled. "Did you enjoy your evening?"

"Very much. How about you?"

" I spent the time reading, among other things. It was very relaxing."

Harry was pleased that his gift was working out so well. He went into his new room to change into pajamas and unpack the sack with the presents he'd gotten from the wizard crackers. He picked up the snake plushie and held it at arms length for a few moments, thinking hard. Then he tucked it under his arm and went back out into the sitting area.

Severus was staring into the fire and he seemed pensive and sad, no longer relaxed. The book lay forgotten in his lap.

Harry bit his lip and worried it back and forth. He was unsure if he should interrupt his guardian's melancholy reverie. The black eyes were distant, as if he recalled something long ago . . . or maybe someone. Like Lily. Harry watched silently for a few moments more, remembering that like himself, Severus must have spent many holidays alone, as he had no family to share them with. Except Skull. And though the raven was a terrific familiar, there were some things he could not do. Such as give the older man a hug.

Harry recalled all the times he crouched alone in the cupboard or forgotten in the hall, watching Petunia and even Vernon lavish attention and hugs on Dudley. He remembered how badly he wished for someone to hug him that way. He wondered suddenly if Severus had ever wished that too. But like Harry, there had been no one around who cared, or maybe even dared, to do so.

But now there was.

Harry moved softly across the floor until he was standing beside the dark-haired wizard. "Uncle Severus? Are you all right?" He touched the other lightly on the hand.

Severus blinked and twitched, brought back from his reverie. He looked over at Harry and said, "I'm fine. Just remembering . . .that's all."

"Something bad?"

"No, just . . . nostalgic for days gone by, when your mother and I were innocent children. Ignore me."

But Harry heard what Severus did not say, that he missed Lily and remembering her was better than being alone on Christmas. Without pausing to think, he quickly removed the ashwinder plushie from under his arm and set it in the other's lap.

Severus stared down at the coiled snake.

"Harry, what is the meaning of this?"

"Well, sir, I thought you could use a friend."

"Do I look like a child to you?" Snape scowled warningly.

"No, but . . .everyone needs something to hug."

Severus was speechless. At first he was tempted to snap at the boy, but then he saw that Harry was not mocking him, or making light of his feelings, the boy was trying to comfort him. His hand darted out to touch the plush snake.

Harry gulped, sure Severus was going to yell. The Potions Master had the strangest look on his face. As if he weren't sure if he should be angry or shocked. It had been a stupid idea. What had he been thinking? "Sorry, sir. I just thought . . ." He reached out to take the snake back. "Forget it. I'll just go to bed now."

But before he could grab the snake, Snape's hand closed over his own. Obsidian eyes met emerald. Wordlessly, the professor found himself opening his arms, inviting the boy to hug him.

Harry felt a warm glow spread through him. Severus understood, he was not offended. He slipped his arms about the other's middle and hugged him.

An instant later he felt strong arms clasp him and hold him close.

Harry instinctively tucked his head beneath Snape's chin and rested his cheek upon Severus' chest. He had never really been held in his life, except after the troll incident in the library, and he should have felt awkward and uncomfortable. Instead he felt safe and protected, but most of all, loved. He remained in Snape's lap for a few moments more, basking in the wizard's approval before finally withdrawing.

"Thanks, Uncle Severus."

"No, Harry. It is I who should thank you. For reminding me that Christmas is a time of joy, not sorrow." He ruffled the boy's hair, then pointed to Harry's room. "Bed, Mr. Potter. It's eleven o'clock."

"'Night, sir." He went obediently towards his room, but couldn't resist glancing back.

He saw the professor rise and . . . take the snake plushie with him as he headed into his suite.

It had been the perfect end to the perfect day, Harry thought as he crawled beneath the covers. And tomorrow would be better still.

Page~*~*~*~*~*Break

Two days after Christmas, Harry received his marks for the first term. He had gotten E's in Potions, Transfiguration, and Astronomy, an O in Flying, and A's in the rest of his classes. "These are acceptable marks for your first term," Severus told him. "However, I would like to see some improvement in those classes you received A's in by next term, and perhaps even an O in one or two of the classes with E's."

"Yes, sir. I'll try and bring my marks up. But we don't really do any practical spells in Defense, it's so boring."

"I can tutor you in Defense over break. Meet me in the Defense classroom at eleven AM."

Harry brightened. "That would be great. Uh, should I tell Ron I'm having extra lessons?"

Severus considered. "You may as well. In fact, if he wishes, Mr. Weasley may participate also."

Ron was only too happy to join Harry, and learn some useful spells, even the twins participated on occasion, for a refresher course. The first thing Severus taught them was to always be alert to their surroundings, and to be prepared for almost anything. The first spell he taught them was a Shield Charm, a standard all-purpose spell to repel most curses and hexes.

"A Shield Charm's strength is proportionate to both a wizard's personal magical strength and the level of the caster. Therefore, my shield or Frederick and George's shield will be much stronger than yours, Ronald, and Harry's as well. You can also use it as perimeter spell, to ward off a specific type of magic or monster. There is one spell that a Shield Charm cannot protect against, and I'm sure you can guess what it is."

"The Killing Curse," Ron said.

"Correct. No Shield Charm can deflect it, it is a curse so powerful that it renders all attempts to block it with magic null and void, as far as we know."

"Then how did Harry survive it?" Ron wondered.

"That, Ronald, is a mystery we have yet to solve. For now, concentrate upon keeping your shield up as I cast," ordered the professor, and began to cast minor jinxes at the boys, such as Tickling Hexes and the like.

Harry found the Shield Spell very useful, and wished he had known it when Malfoy dueled him, it might have prevented him from getting his arm broken. Severus was a thorough but strict teacher, making them re-do a spell until they had it right and could cast it without hesitation.

They learned several minor jinxes and their counters also, like the Tickling Curse, the Leg-Locker Curse, which was Ron's favorite, a Stammering Jinx, a Sneezing Jinx—the twins loved that spell, a Butterfingers Hex, and even a Freezing Jinx, which froze a person in place for several minutes.

"You will note that some jinxes—like the Sneezing Jinx or the Butterfingers Hex-aren't all that harmful, but do make the target uncomfortable for several minutes. You do not necessarily have to kill your opponent in order to win a conflict, and usually an opponent is prepared to defend against the more powerful curses, but fails to deflect minor ones. Casting a Butterfingers Hex makes a wand too slippery to hold, as Harry demonstrated, while a Sneezing or Stammering Jinx makes it nearly impossible to cast spells, since you cannot speak correctly. Any of those spells will enable you to flee from a stronger adversary."

"But sir, isn't running away like cowardice?" Ron asked.

"At this stage, Mr. Weasley, you have almost no chance of surviving a duel with a wizard who truly means you harm. There is an old Muggle saying, he who runs away, lives to fight another day. Survival should be your primary concern, not victory. Use your head and the common sense you were born with and you shall survive. In a spell duel, he who walks away is the winner, not the one who risks his neck foolishly."

"Oh. That makes sense."

Severus told them about a standard Disarming Charm, but said it was beyond their capabilities at this time, and he would show them that spell next year. "It's a favorite of any duelist, but it can be blocked, so don't rely upon it exclusively."

After each lesson the boys came away dripping with sweat and aching, but neither complained. They improved little by little, until Harry was confident that next time Malfoy tried to hex him, he could give as good as he got.

In light of the attacks on his ward, Severus constructed a protective charm for Harry. "Wear this at all times, even in the shower," Snape told him. "It shall protect you from most harmful curses and poisons as well."

The pendant was silver, shaped like a shield with a flying raven embossed in the center. When Harry put it on, he felt a cool tingling sensation wash over him. "Thanks, Severus."

"There is no need to thank me. Had I known the way trouble seems to follow you, I would have made one of these for you long ago."

"Better late than never," Skull quipped.

Once Defense lessons were over, Harry was free to spend time with Ron, and most times the boys spent it outside, playing in the snow and wandering the grounds. One afternoon, Hagrid invited them for tea, and while they were sitting at the table, Ron suddenly recalled something.

"Hey Harry, did you ever figure out what was in that package Snape brought back from Gringotts? The one he was so mysterious about?"

Harry shook his head. "No. He wouldn't say. Told me it was top secret and I shouldn't ask questions."

"Hermione and I think it had something to do with the break-in at Gringotts. Those thieves mist have been looking for whatever it was. Maybe Snape hid it somewhere, like in his office. Didn't you say he keeps things locked up in a desk drawer?"

"Yeah, but I'm not going to snoop around in his office, Ron. He'd have a fit."

"Indeed he would, and rightly so, lads. Professor Snape is very private, he is." Hagrid scolded. "Best if you stay out of business that doesn't concern you, what's in that package is top secret and known only to Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel."

"Nicholas Flamel?" Harry repeated. "Who's he?"

Hagrid looked rueful. "Ah, me and my big mouth. Forget about it, there's naught down that road but trouble."

But of course this only peaked the boys' curiosity.

"I've heard that name before, I know it," Ron said as they headed back to the castle. "I just can't remember where."

"We can look it up in Famous Witches and Wizards of the 20th Century," Harry suggested. Severus had a copy of that book on his shelf and Harry was free to borrow it.

But Flamel's name was not among the witches and wizards listed. They asked the twins, but they didn't recall who he was either. "Somebody famous." Was all either of them remembered.

They had an impromptu snowball fight and buried Ron under a foot of snow. As a result, Ron came down with a nasty cold the next morning. He tried to ignore it and pretend he was fine, but he coughed and sneezed all through breakfast.

"You ought to take a Pepperup Potion and go to bed for the rest of the day," said Percy.

"No, I'm fine," his brother protested.

"I quite agree, Percival," Skullduggery fluttered down to land on the table, speaking in Snape's voice.

Ron scowled. "Well, I don't!"

Skull clucked his beak in reproof. "Mind the attitude! I was sent here to tell you to drink the potion that shall appear on the table and then go straight to bed, no arguments."

At that precise moment, a potion popped up in front of Ron.

"Bed! But I just got up!" Ron argued.

"Or else I shall come over and spoonfeed it to you like a toddler in front of everyone and carry you to bed," Skull threatened in Snape's silky tones. "Which shall it be?"

Ron blanched. "Fine! I'll take it!" He uncorked the vial.

Ten minutes later, Ron was in bed, the Pepperup Potion tended to make you drowsy, and he soon fell asleep.

There was no Defense lesson that day, as Severus was brewing counterdrafts for next term and so Harry was at loose ends. He didn't feel like reading or walking outside, the wind was bitter today and the last thing he wanted was to come down with a cold like Ron. He wanted to figure out who Flamel was, but didn't feel like doing research alone. Bored, he headed up to Gryffindor Tower to see if the twins wanted to play chess, but they weren't around. Sighing, he walked down the row of portraits, and suddenly noticed a door on the right hand side that had never been there before.

Before he could think better of it, he had turned the knob and stepped inside.

The room looked like an unused classroom, filled with scratched up desks and broken chairs and there was a thick carpet of dust upon the floor. Harry walked through it, leaving small footprints. The room was dim, so he lit up his wand. It was then that he saw the large ornate mirror standing off to one side of the teacher's desk.

Harry had never seen anything like it. It had a gold frame carved with flying creatures and across the top was inscribed Erised along with some other words Harry couldn't comprehend. The mirror was taller than he was, and it too was covered with dust. Wishing to see his reflection, Harry dug a handkerchief with the Slytherin crest out of his pocket, it had once belonged to Severus, and began to rub away the dust over the face.

Clouds of dust flew everywhere and Harry coughed and rubbed his eyes, they stung. Finally, all the dust was removed and Harry peered at the mirror.

But instead of his reflection he saw an odd mist, it shifted and swirled, as if it were alive, and trapped behind the glass. A moment later it cleared and he caught a glimpse of himself, and three figures—two he recognized as Severus and Lily and the other must be his father, James. They were standing there smiling, and Lily and Severus had their hands on his shoulders. The image was so lifelike that Harry spun round, expecting to see his parents and Snape behind him.

The room was empty.

"Huh? What was that?" he slowly turned about again to face the mirror. "Must be a magic mirror." He mused. Then he chanted softly, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall . . ."

Sudden light flared and he shielded his eyes. When he could see again, the mirror had a face, it somewhat resembled Lily's and it was staring back at him.

"Oh, please, not that old chestnut again!" the mirror groaned. "You don't know how tired I am of hearing that!"

"You . . . you talk!"

"Well, of course! Though I'll admit, I haven't had a conversation with anyone in a long long time. I've been moldering away in this room for years, forgotten." The mirror sniffed.

"Oh. Err . . . do you have a name?"

"My creator called me the Mirror of Erised and I can show you your heart's desire."

"You can? Then what I saw . . .?"

"Was your own longing for the parents you have lost and the family you wish to have with your guardian," the mirror explained. Then she frowned. "However, there is yet another thing you desire very much. A mystery to be solved. Three questions you may ask. What knowledge do you seek? What information do you desire? Ask, and I shall answer."

Harry took a deep breath. Then he said, "I want to know about Nicholas Flamel. Who he was and what he did."

"Ask , then."

"I just did." Harry frowned. Then it hit him. He had to put it in the form of a question. "Who is Nicholas Flamel and what did he do?"

The mirror smiled. "Is this what you desire?"

"Yes."

"Nicholas Flamel is a famous wizard and alchemist. He discovered the Sorcerer's Stone and the secret of immortality, along with his friend, Albus Dumbledore."

Harry felt a thrill run through him. "What is the Sorcerer's Stone and what does it do?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone is an ancient magical object. It is a deep ruby red in color, made from coreolite crystal, and it was rumored to be created when the universe began, out of a piece of ethereal magic made solid. If a portion of the stone is crushed and drank in a glass of pure water, it can make the wizard or witch immortal. Age will not touch them and so long as they drink the potion every year, death's hand shall be stayed."

Harry gaped. No wonder it had been hidden away. People would kill for such a thing. He quickly asked his last question. "Where is the Stone now?"

"It is here, in the castle." The mirror replied.

"Where?"

"I cannot say." The mirror said. Then the glass went opaque.

Harry tapped on the glass and called for it to come back, that he desired more answers. But the mirror remained dark. "Damn it, I was so close!" he swore angrily.

He remained staring into the mirror for a few more moments, then he left the room and went to wake up Ron, for he had solved at least part of the mystery.

Harry had to shake Ron several times to wake him, and finally the redhead opened his eyes and growled, "Whaddya want? I'm on holiday, can't I sleep in for once, Mum?"

"Ron, it's me, Harry," his friend snickered at Ron's disgruntled expression.

"Huh?" Ron yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Oh, it's you. Why are you waking me up, Harry?" His voice still sounded sort of stuffed up.

"Sorry. Are you still sick?"

"Nah. Not really. That Pepperup potion the professor gave me works really good." He sat up, reaching for a glass of water that rested on his night table. He drank thirstily, then wiped his mouth on his pajama sleeve before saying, "What's so important you had to wake me up instead of waiting till tomorrow, mate?"

Harry looked about the room, even though he knew no one was there besides himself and Ron. He shut the door then returned to Ron's bed, leaning over and whispering, "You'll never believe what I found, Ron. I found a talking magic mirror in this dusty old room and I got to ask it three questions and it told me about the Sorcerer's Stone."

"Crikey!" Ron yelped, his eyes wide. "What did it say?"

Harry told him about Nicolas Flamel. "But when I tried to ask it some more questions, it wouldn't answer me."

"That's how some magic items work. They're designed to only answer certain questions, or a certain number of them and then you're on your own."

"Hey . . . maybe you could ask it three questions!" exclaimed Harry. "Get up, and let's go find the room again."

Ron stuck his feet into his slippers and said, "Let me just use the loo. Be back in a few." He hurried out of the room.

Harry went down to the common room, Ron would figure out where he was. He couldn't wait to see what the mirror had to say when Ron asked it a few questions. Maybe they could solve the mystery before the holidays were over and shock Hermione. She had been sure that they wouldn't be able to figure it out on their own.

Ron met him in the common room, looking more awake, he must have given his face a wash, because it looked freshly scrubbed. "Ready. Where to?"

"This way." Harry led him out of the portrait hole.

Down the corridor they went, keeping their footsteps quick and mostly quiet. "It's right around here," Harry hissed, indicating the wall on the right.

But the wall where the door had been was blank.

Ron frowned. "Harry, are you sure it was here? Maybe you got mixed up?"

Harry shook his head firmly. "No. It was right here," he tapped the wall. "But now it's not. How can a room disappear like that?"

"In this castle, even the rooms appear and disappear," Ron told him. "Sometimes a room can vanish and not come back for years."

"But . . ." Harry looked dismayed. "Why?"

"I don't know. It's part of the magic of the castle, I guess."

Harry sighed, peeved. "That really sucks. I was really hoping you could ask the mirror some other questions and now . . ." He tried smacking and kicking the wall where the door had been, to no avail. "Ow!" he cried, bruising his toes.

Ron chuckled. "Take it easy, mate. If the room's gone, kicking the wall ain't going to bring it back."

"Could the Headmaster bring it back?"

"I don't think so. I think the castle picks and chooses sometimes and not even Dumbledore has much say about it. He told me once he found a room filled with chocolate frogs and when he went back later to find it, it had vanished and he never saw it again."

Harry scowled, it looked like it was hopeless. For whatever reason, the room was gone. "Blast! I was hoping we could solve the mystery of where the Stone was hidden before the end of the holidays."

"Cheer up, Harry," Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "When Hermione comes back, she can help."

"I suppose." The dark-haired wizard huffed. Then he got an idea. "Ron, why don't we go to the library and see what else we can find out about Flamel? I'm sure there's got to be a book about him, he's famous."

"But you already know he found the Stone."

"I know, but I'd still like to do a bit more research as well as confirm what the mirror told me. You should always confirm what someone tells you when you're investigating a case, because sometimes the information someone has could be wrong."

"You think the mirror was mistaken? Or maybe lying?"

"I don't know. I hope not, I don't see why it would be, but better safe than sorry."

"How do you know all this stuff about solving cases, Harry?"

"I read a lot of crime novels. You know, Sherlock Holmes? Agatha Christie? Sydney Sheldon?" His list was met with a blank look. "No? Maybe you wouldn't recognize them 'cause they're Muggle authors and characters?"

"I don't get to read many Muggle books," Ron said.

"Oh. Forgot about that. Anyhow, they're all detective stories and I like trying to solve the mystery before the end of the book, when they reveal who did it or whatever. And in every mystery novel I've ever read, you have to have proof before you can count something as evidence, and that especially includes things people say. So let's see if we can find something about Flamel in the library."

"What time is it?"

Harry pulled out his pocket watch. "It's a little after six. We have a few hours before curfew." He smiled at Lily's picture before shutting the cover and replacing the watch inside his pocket. Severus had cut a small hole in his pocket so he could slide the watch chain through and then clip the end to the chain. That way he couldn't lose it and no one could steal it without tearing Harry's robe, something he would be sure to notice.

"All right. I just hope it doesn't take that long to find the book."

"It won't. Lena's working at the desk tonight, she can help us." Harry said calmly.

"How do you know that?"

"She told me she works at night, because Madam Pince is getting too old to stay up all night and the library closes at eleven."

Ron gave him an odd look, he had never known anyone like Harry, who seemed to be as at home in the library as he was in his room, and knew things like a librarian's schedule. He was . . . almost . . . as bad as Hermione for studying.

Lena was quite happy to assist them, going to the section of wizard biographies and diaries of famous personages. "Here you go, Harry." She handed him a rather thick volume titled Phoenix From the Ashes: the Astonishing Life and Achievements of Nicolas Flamel.

"Thanks, Lena. When is this due back?"

"Oh, not for three weeks. Take your time, I know you'll have lots of homework to do once term resumes. If you need to renew it, just let me know. Flamel is a fascinating man, I hope you'll find the book fun to read."

"Is he a part of the Society?"

Lena nodded. "Yes. He is one of the founding members, loving knowledge for its own sake and one of the few who has not abandoned the old practices."

Harry tucked the book in his pocket and hurried out of the library.

Ron was grinning. "Now you can confirm what the mirror said, right?"

"Uh huh. I'm going to go back to my room in the dungeon and start reading."

"You think you can finish the book before term starts again? It looked like it was a long one." Ron said dubiously.

Harry shrugged. "I read fast. I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right. I'm going back to bed." Ron said, then he sneezed.

Harry hurried down to the dungeons. When he spoke the password to Severus' quarters, something which Snape had told him about just before Christmas, the door unlocked and he went inside. Neither Severus or Skull was there, and Harry slipped into his room and curled up on the bed. He pulled out the book and began to read.

Soon he was engrossed in the life of the famous alchemist and quite forgot about dinner until Severus returned and tapped on his bedroom door.

"Harry? Have you eaten tonight?"

"Huh?" Harry started. "Uh . . . no. I forgot. I've been reading." He quickly set his book down, his stomach was growling loudly.

"Come out here then, and have something. I doubt you'll be able to sleep else."

Harry slid reluctantly from his bed and opened the door to find Snape on the other side. "Where's Skull?" He asked, when he did not see the raven.

"Out and about. Hunting, most likely." Snape replied. "What would you like to eat? The house elves will make you whatever you wish."

Harry thought for a bit. "How about chicken and dumplings with a side of bread with butter?"

"Very good. No sweet?" teased the other.

"Can I have treacle pudding, Uncle Severus?"

"You may. And I shall have some chicken and wild rice soup and a half of a ham with lettuce and mayonnaise sandwich."

"What about your coffee? And some jam shortbreads?"

"Yes." He clapped his hands and summoned a house elf.

Once he had given their order to the kitchen elf, Severus settled down on the couch and beckoned Harry to sit beside him. "What have you been up to all day?"

"Nothing much. I walked about a little and then decided to go to the library with Ron and check out a book. Then I've been in here, reading."

"I see. Is the book an interesting one?"

"Yes. Very interesting." Harry said. "It's a book about alchemists," He said, not sure why he was reluctant to tell Severus that the book was about Flamel.

"Ah. Most of them led colorful lives." Severus nodded.

"How did your brewing go? Maybe I can help sometime?" he asked wistfully.

"I am nearly finished. Most of the drafts I'm brewing for the Hospital Wing are beyond your capability now, but I shall keep it in mind. Thank you for offering."

Soon their dinner arrived and there was no more conversation until both were finished.

Harry pushed his plate away and then tackled the pudding.

"Careful, boy. Eating too fast could make you sick."

"I'm all right," Harry said, spooning up the pudding.

He lay down his spoon, finished.

Severus began making some Black Diamond coffee for himself and Summoning the tin of jam shortbreads he kept on the bottom row of his bookshelf. They had been made by Lena's mother and Lena had shared them with him.

"Can I be excused?"

"Yes. Go back to your reading, but lights go out at ten o'clock."

" I know." Harry quickly returned to his reading, eager to find out how Flamel discovered the Stone and learned how to brew the Elixir of Life.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Over the last few days of the holiday, Harry read and learned all about Nicolas Flamel, but except for three chapters about his discovery of the Stone and experimenting with it to make the Elixir of Life and sharing the resulting potion with his beloved wife, there was very little about how the Stone worked. The alchemist did stress that using the Stone for selfish purposes would taint the way the Stone responded, and that was why the formula for the Elixir of Life was not printed up. He did find Flamel a fascinating man, and also learned that Dumbledore had been partners with him and was taught alchemy by Flamel.

When he took a break from reading, he played in the snow with Ron, or practiced chess with him. Sometimes he went for a walk about the grounds, accompanied by Skull, who amused him by imitating the calls of various birds, all of whom would appear looking for their mate or a similar species and find no one but the mimicking raven.

Hermione arrived back a day early and was impressed with how much the boys had figured out. But soon Flamel was nearly forgotten when term started again and all the teachers gave them tons of homework.

Neville was improving in potions, enough so he didn't explode cauldrons every class. Severus couldn't fail to notice his progress and praised the boy one morning, making Neville very happy.

"You are much improved, Longbottom. Would you still like to continue our sessions on Wednesdays?" inquired the professor.

"Oh, yes, sir. These potions we're doing now are harder than the first ones and sometimes I still get in a muddle."

"Very well. We shall continue where we left off. Wednesday evenings at seven o'clock."

Neville gave him a grateful look before hurrying out the door.

Harry had resumed sleeping in Gryffindor Tower during the week, but could be found in Snape's quarters during the weekend. The first week of term, he bumped into Malfoy on the way to Snape's quarters.

"In a hurry, Potter?" queried the Slytherin.

"Sorry, Malfoy. I am in a bit of a rush. Have a lot of Transfiguration to do before practice today." Harry said.

Draco looked a bit envious, then he said, "Thank you for the Christmas gift, Potter. I enjoyed it very much."

"You're welcome. Thanks for the Snitch." Harry said, feeling rather awkward.

"Maybe you can use it during practice." The Slytherin suggested. "You'll need it if you're going to try and win the Quidditch Cup this year."

Harry knew that Slytherin had won both the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup for the past seven years. "You never know, Malfoy. This year could be the year Gryffindor wins."

"Ha! In your dreams!" The other snorted. Then he turned and walked away, leaving Harry to head into the professor's quarters and make a start on his homework before going to practice that afternoon.

Not long after that, Hermione began studying frantically for her end of term exams, and encouraging the rest of their study group to do the same. Defense was as abysmally boring as ever, Quirrell was now focusing on trolls, but he managed to make even that subject dull. Ron suggested they continue meeting in Snape's quarters every other night and practicing what they had learned over the holiday. Neither Neville or Hermione had learned the Leg Locker Jinx or most of the others Severus had taught them.

Hermione was determined to ace her exams, and so refused to learn anything new. Draco knew that jinx already, but agreed to practice it anyway. The four boys paired up one evening while Severus was marking exams for his fifth years, Draco with Harry and Ron with Neville.

This time, Harry was able to block Malfoy's jinx and catch him with a Sneezing Jinx.

But Ron got a little overenthusiastic with Neville, forgetting the other boy had not had the benefit of Snape's Defense tutoring, and the Body Bind he cast caused Neville to topple over backwards and hit his head upon the table.

The boy lay still, his eyes wide open, and blood trickled from his head.

"Neville! Oh, you're bleeding!" Hermione cried in alarm. "Professor, Neville's hurt!"

Severus rose immediately and came over. "What happened?" He demanded, removing the bind over Neville.

"I . . . we were showing Draco and Neville the new spells you taught us, sir," Ron stammered guiltily. "I didn't mean to hurt him."

Severus gently felt along Neville's head, his fingers coming away stained with blood. "You have a lump the size of a walnut back here, Longbottom. Let's get you to the Hospital Wing. Skull, inform Madam Pomfrey that I have an injured student on his way to her."

"On it, Sev!" the raven called, then waited for the professor to open the door before flying out of it.

Severus conjured a stretcher and floated Neville on it. The boy whimpered. "It hurts, Professor Snape. A lot."

"Yes, I imagine it would." He fixed Ron with a scowl. "Mr. Weasley, come with me. How many times have I told you never to cast a jinx of that magnitude unless you are being supervised by me? Longbottom has enough trouble with his memory, he doesn't need amnesia as well."

Ron hung his head. "But sir, you were in the room."

"Don't split hairs with me, Weasley. You could have seriously injured Longbottom with your carelessness." Severus scolded sternly, levitating the stretcher and floating it before him.

"I'm really sorry, sir."

"Humph! You shall be even sorrier when you get through with my detention tonight. You will accompany me to the Hospital Wing and scrub twelve bedpans without magic. I am sure Madam Pomfrey will appreciate the assistance and perhaps doing so will teach you to remember my instructions."

Ron gaped at him. "But, sir . . . that's not fair! I didn't mean to hurt him!"

"Quit your whining, boy. The fact remains that he did get injured and you disobeyed me, therefore you will now face the consequences."

Unhappily, Ron followed the professor and Neville's stretcher out the door.

"Poor Ron!" Harry muttered.

"Poor Ron? How about poor Neville?" Hermione objected. "He could have brain damage."

"He didn't hit his head that hard, Granger," Draco pointed out.

"It could happen. I knew a boy once who tripped and hit his head on a wooden banister and he gave himself a bad concussion and almost died," the witch argued.

"Madam Pomfrey will heal him, Granger. Weasley was stupid to cast that here, where Longbottom was sure to hit something." Draco said dismissively.

"Hey, it was an accident," Harry defended his friend.

"Enough! I'm trying to study, if you two don't mind?" Hermione said irritably. She buried her nose in her Astronomy text.

After one last glare, Harry too returned to studying his Herbology, and Draco haughtily paged through his Transfiguration chapters.

Snape returned after half an hour, Skull riding his shoulder, and reassured them that Neville was doing fine and would be held for observation overnight before being released tomorrow.

"What about Ron?" Harry asked.

"Mr. Weasley is still serving his detention. He will be dismissed when he has completed it," Severus said crisply. "Carry on with your homework, Mr. Potter."

At a quarter to nine, Ron returned to Snape's quarters to retrieve his books and bag. He looked exhausted and chastened. "I'm finished, sir," he said, handing Snape a note from Madam Pomfrey indicating he had done a satisfactory job.

Severus took the note. "I trust you have learned your lesson?"

Ron nodded.

"Dismissed, Mr. Weasley. Go to bed," he waved off the redhead, who turned and hurried away after grabbing his things.

Hermione and Draco quickly followed suit, until only Harry was left.

"Harry, time for bed." Severus called softly.

Harry closed his books. "Okay, Uncle Severus." he paused before going into his room. "Are you sure Neville's going to be all right?"

"Yes. Madam Pomfrey would not say so unless she was certain of it."

"I'm glad. Ron didn't mean to hurt him."

"Harry, whether or not he intended to do so, the fact remains that he cast a spell which Longbottom couldn't block and caused him an injury. If he had hit his head a little lower, Longbottom might well be in a coma or dead. Ronald needs to understand that he should have thought before he tried to duel Longbottom, and with a new student, care must be taken to ensure the student's safety always. I did not enjoy issuing such a punishment, however it was necessary. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now this subject is closed and I'll hear no more about it. Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Uncle Severus." Harry said, then came and gave his guardian a hug before heading into his room.

He spent part of the night reading the rest of the Flamel book, until Skullduggery ghosted into the room and perched upon the headboard.

"Sleep, bran-boy. Else you'll be too tired to get up tomorrow and practice."

Harry smiled up at the raven. "Just one more minute, then I'll stop."

The raven ruffled his feathers. "There is such a thing as too much studying."

"This isn't for school, Skull. It's to relax me."

Harry continued reading until his eyes drooped.

Skull clucked at him. "Harry, put the book down and go to sleep."

Harry removed his glasses and dimmed the lamp in his room, leaving just enough light to see where he placed his glasses. But though he was tired, he couldn't fall asleep. "Skull, do you ever miss your family?"

"Occasionally. But I go and visit for awhile every year so it's not so bad," answered the raven. "My place is with Sev now, and I have no regrets." The raven answered. "Would you like to hear how we first met?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"I shall tell you another night."

"Why not now?" Harry asked, somewhat petulantly.

"Because you are far too tired to listen properly," the raven soothed. He began to make soft humming noises into Harry's ear.

In spite of himself, Harry began to drift and then all at once he was asleep.

The raven nuzzled him affectionately and whispered, "Sweet dreams, child." He remained until he was certain Harry was sleeping soundly, then he glided from the room to sleep by Severus.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

As winter gave way to spring, the weather turned rainy, resulting in many students coming down with colds and viruses. The damp weather also triggered students' allergies and Severus' sinus headaches came back with a vengeance. As a result, he was prickly and tended to snap more at students and colleagues. The only exceptions were Neville and Skullduggery.

On his best day, Severus had no fondness for Quidditch, and when he was under the weather his tolerance level dropped below zero. Harry had Quidditch practice three times a week now, Wood was working them like dogs, and he often came back from practice exhausted and soaking wet. But everyone was speculating about the upcoming match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. If Gryffindor won, it would mean they would be in the lead for the Quidditch Cup, something that had not happened in seven years. And so, everyone was talking about it and raving over the possibility of Gryffindor winning.

That alone was enough to put Snape in a bad mood, since he was very competitive and didn't want his House to be shown up. Add to that his painful sinus headaches and he was as grumpy as a nesting Hungarian Horntail. He forbid any talk about Quidditch in his class and took points if he caught anyone doing so, even from Slytherin.

Harry had grown rather slipshod about his homework since starting practice, and Severus noticed and demanded an explanation. When Harry mentioned Quidditch practice, the professor snapped, "There is more to life than Quidditch, young man! You should be putting your energy into your studies, not flying about trying to catch a winged globe! Maybe you need to go to bed earlier!"

Harry was shocked at his guardian's outburst, not understanding most of it was due to being in pain almost daily, and he retreated to his bedroom, hurt and irritated. He wished Severus would try and understand his love of Quidditch was like Snape's love of Defense and potions. He was sulking about Snape's intransigence when Skullduggery flew into his room and perched on his knee.

"Don't mind Sev, Harry. It's not really you he's angry at. He's having one of his episodes and he has no patience for anyone when he's in pain."

"In pain? What's wrong with him?"

"The weather mostly. It triggers his sinus headaches, and he refuses to rest enough when he's teaching, so it aggravates them and he becomes unbearable."

"Oh. That's terrible. Isn't there something he could take, like a potion?"

"Yes, but the Headache Remedies make his head foggy and he hates that even worse and so doesn't take them unless he's about to pass out." The raven informed him. "I try and help him as best I can, but it's difficult. He doesn't mean to snap at you, bran-boy."

Harry scratched Skull behind the head and the raven purred at him. Now he felt sorry for Severus, he had had one or two really bad headaches as a child, and couldn't imagine dealing with that kind of pain on a daily basis. So he held his tongue about Quidditch and also about the reoccurring nightmares he'd been having of Voldemort killing his parents.

Until one weekend, when he was sleeping over, and woke Severus with his whimpering and yelling.

Severus came rushing into the room, to find Harry all tangled in the bedcovers, trembling and in a cold sweat. "Harry? What's wrong? Were you having a nightmare?"

Harry woke up fully then. "Umm . . . yeah, I was. It's no big deal. Been having the same one for awhile, Uncle Severus."

Severus brushed his hand across Harry's forehead. "You're sweating. Come, get up and get changed into another pair of pajamas. It's not good to be wet down here, it's too damp. I'll need to change your sheets too."

"Oh, but that's not really necessary, sir . . ." Harry began.

"It most certainly is," his guardian said firmly. He waved his wand, stripping off the old sheets and replacing them with fresh ones.

Harry changed quickly into fresh pajamas, feeling guilty for causing Severus to wake up in the middle of the night.

"How long have you been having these nightmares? And why didn't you tell me?"

"About a week or two. I thought . . . they'd go away and I didn't want to make you worry when you were getting such bad headaches."

Severus frowned. "How did you know about my headaches?"

"Skullduggery told me. He thought I should know."

Severus shook his head and muttered something about gossipy ravens needing their tongues hexed quiet. He then Summoned a clear potion and gave Harry a spoonful. "That is Dreamless Sleep and will allow you a full night's rest. Next time you are having nightmares, come to me and tell me. Forgive me for biting your head off, I am not at my best with these bloody headaches." He rubbed his temples. "Even so, that does not mean I will neglect you, Harry. What were the nightmares about? Can you remember?"

"Yes. I dreamed about my parents dying again. About the night he came."

Severus gently urged him to sit on the bed, then sat next to him, an arm about the slender shoulders. "You should have come to me before. There was no need to suffer through that over and over." He silently cursed his temper.

"I didn't want to be a bother."

"Harry, as your guardian, it's my duty to make sure you are well, physically and mentally. Telling me when you are sick or hurt is not being a bother. I cannot help you unless I know something is wrong. There is no need to be afraid of me, child, I will never scold you for coming to me and asking for a potion."

"Oh. All right."

"Good. Now lie down and close your eyes. The Dreamless Sleep should take effect in a minute."

Harry did as he was told, Snape tucked the covers around him, and Harry fell asleep almost immediately.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Even though Harry was getting a proper amount of sleep, he was still stressing over his studies, he wished to improve his marks so Snape would be proud of him and he also wanted to help Gryffindor win the Cup this year. As the day of the match drew nearer, he was practicing even harder with the team and trying to complete all his homework. Even with the Dreamless Sleep, he still woke up feeling tired. But he said nothing to anyone, figuring the pressure would lessen once the match was over.

The morning of the game he woke up feeling achy and tired and his stomach was queasy. He put it down to nerves and went up to eat breakfast with the other Gryffindors. But he found he could barely choke down some toast and a few pieces of bacon and a half a glass of milk.

"You all set, Harry?" Wood asked from down the table.

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak, for his stomach suddenly felt as if it were going to turn itself inside out.

"Remember, all you have to do is catch the Snitch in the first quarter, Potter, and we've won the game." Wood said encouragingly.

"You can do it, Harry," Fred said, giving him a smile.

Harry wished he felt more uplifted by his teammates, but all he could concentrate on was the churning in his stomach. It was growing worse. Suddenly he stood up and ran from the hall.

"Harry? Where are you going?" Wood called.

"He looked kind of sick," Hermione said.

Breakfast was nearly over, and as Harry rushed out of the hall, Severus noticed and followed.

He was just in time to see his ward duck into the boys' bathroom. "Harry?" he called, following the boy inside.

The unmistakable sound of retching came from one of the stalls.

Severus sighed and reached into his pocket for a vial of Stomach Soother. It must be nerves.

When Harry emerged from the stall, pale as a sheet, his eyes glassy and clutching his stomach, Severus murmured, "Here, drink this. Then you're coming with me to see Madam Pomfrey."

"Huh?" Harry took the potion and drank it slowly. "I don't need to, it's just nerves and the bacon was too greasy. I'm fine."

An instant later his stomach cramped and gurgled warningly. He doubled over, then turned and rushed back into the stall to relieve himself.

When he reappeared five minutes later, still suffering cramps, Severus took him firmly by the shoulder. "You are going to the Hospital Wing, no arguing."

"No! Why can't you just give me a potion for it?" Harry protested.

"Because that will only treat the symptoms, not the cause of them. You seem to have developed a stomach virus. Now stop fighting me, before I pick you up and carry you there."

He walked rapidly up the stairs and down the corridor until finally they reached the infirmary.

Poppy was at her desk, writing up a few charts when she saw Severus enter. "Severus? What seems to be the problem?"

"I need you take a look at Harry. He's feeling ill this morning."

"Goodness! What seems to be the problem?" she asked Harry, drawing her wand.

"It's my stomach," Harry groaned.

"Oh, dear. Have you vomited today?"

Harry nodded. "Once. Then Severus gave me a Stomach Soother."

"I see. Have you had any loose stools?"

Harry blushed and looked down at his sneakers.

"He has," Snape interjected. "Poppy, I believe he has a stomach virus."

The medi-witch waved her wand and Harry found himself in a pair of comfortable cotton pajamas. She then muttered a diagnostic spell. A moment later she straightened. "You are correct, Severus. His stomach is very unsettled and he has some bloating and gas. He also has an infection in his lower bowel, I can give him a potion for that . . . and another to relieve the cramping . . . until then he ought to rest and eat certain foods to bind him . . . bananas, oatmeal, a little broth, some brown rice with salt, applesauce . . ."

Harry listened with half an ear, wishing she would just give him a potion and be done with it. The match was in two hours. Suddenly a terrible though occurred to him. "Madam Pomfrey, I can still play Quidditch, right? The game's this afternoon."

Poppy shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Potter. You're quite ill and need to remain in bed."

Harry blanched. "No! I can't do that. I have to play."

"Harry, it's no use arguing. Now do as she told you."

"But . . . you don't understand! I have to play. Gryffindor will forfeit the match else and Hufflepuff will win by default." Harry protested.

"That can't be helped, dear." Poppy said sympathetically. "You're in no condition to play."

"There will be other games," Severus said softly. "Come now, get in bed."

He managed to get Harry to a bed. The boy was wearing a mulish expression. Poppy gave him two potions and then told him to rest.

"Severus . . ."

Severus shook his head. "Lie down and sleep, Harry. I'll be back in a few minutes, I need to speak with Minerva." He gently pushed the boy down on the bed and then left.

Harry lay there, still feeling sick, and wondering how he could have come down with this bloody virus the day he had to play in the big match. It wasn't fair! After all of the time he spent training, all the hours of flying in the rain and the mud, now it was all for nothing. Now Gryffindor would lose, and it was all his fault. Tears prickled his eyes.

Then he gritted his teeth and sat up. He wouldn't let this stop him. He would fly and catch the Snitch. He stood up shakily and began to walk towards the door.

Poppy had returned to her office, believing him to be asleep. He made his way slowly but steadily towards the door.

He had almost reached it when Severus appeared in the doorway, Skull upon his shoulder.

"Harry, what are you doing out of bed? Get back there immediately." Severus ordered.

Harry looked up at him. "No. I can't let them down."

Severus glared at him. "You stubborn child! How can you expect to sit a broom in your condition? You can barely stand, much less fly. And you could also infect your teammates if you went back there now."

"I'll manage," Harry said, one arm wrapped about his middle. "Please, Severus."

"No."

He picked the boy up and carried him back to bed.

Harry would have protested, but just then his stomach rebelled.

Severus set him down and grabbed a bedpan just in time. He held Harry's head until it was over, then wiped his face with a damp cloth. "There now. Here, have some water."

Harry drank slowly, ridding himself of the awful taste. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. You're hardly to blame."

"I'm sorry because I ruined my team's chance at the cup." Harry clarified, dashing a hand across his face.

"That wasn't something you could prevent," Severus said. He gently stroked the boy's hair. "Besides, I spoke to the Headmaster and he agreed to postpone the match until next Saturday, so you can still play in it and give Gryffindor its chance."

"He did?" Harry brightened. "That's great!"

"Now, for the love of Merlin, will you quite fretting over it and rest?"

This time Harry didn't argue, he simply lay back down. His last glimpse before falling asleep was of Severus sitting in a chair next to the bed.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

When Harry woke again, he felt much better. Severus had gone back to his lab to brew some potions, leaving him to be looked after by Poppy and Skullduggery. Poppy bustled about, giving him more potions and asking him how he felt.

"A little better."

"Good. You slept for about four hours and now it's lunchtime. Do you feel up to having some tea and some toast, maybe a cup of broth and some applesauce also?"

Harry nodded.

Some two minutes later a tray was floated over to him. "Eat as much as you can, don't worry if you can't finish." She told him.

Harry cautiously ate a piece of toast with a bit of butter and sipped the chamomile tea. There was also a cup of chicken broth and a small dish of applesauce. A large glass of ice water was also upon the tray, with a flexible straw in it.

He made sure he ate some applesauce, and finished one piece of toast and drank some broth before sensing that was about all he could tolerate. "Here, Skull." He held out the other piece of toast, feeding it to the raven in pieces.

"Thank you, Harry." Skull took the bits from Harry's fingers delicately.

Once he was done with lunch, he had nothing to keep himself occupied. He didn't feel sleepy, and so he asked Skull to tell him about the first time Skullduggery had met Severus.

Skull fluffed his feathers and settled down on the bed. "Ah, yes, I did promise you that tale, didn't I? Listen closely. Once upon a time, eight years ago, I lived with my raven family in the Tower of London . . ." **

Harry listened, astounded at the fact that Severus had, in the beginning, refused the raven's company, believing himself not worthy of a raven familiar. He grinned at Skullduggery's attempts to change the snarky professor's mind, and at how clever the bird was about ferreting information out of the other familiars in order to learn about the wizard.

He learned that Severus, even then, had no tolerance for those who bullied others, and had once rescued a Hufflepuff he found crying in the corridor after a detention with Argus Filch.

"I felt sorry for Robyn too, she was a gentle soul, and undeserving of Filch's cruelty." Skullduggery said. "I don't know how Mrs. Norris put up with that. Still, she is his familiar, and often we will tolerate much from our wizards. I do know that Sev put the fear of God into the miserable bugger once he got Robyn sorted out, and he never had detention alone with a child again, at least not when Severus issued them. Even Peeves was disgusted with him for scaring the girl so badly."

"Do you know why he's like that?"

"Hmm. I'd venture to say that Filch is bitter and angry at being a Squib, and takes out his frustration on the only targets available—you students. Some of his attitude is justified, since many students enjoy playing pranks on him, but it doesn't excuse tormenting an innocent child even if she did earn herself detention. You'd be wise to steer clear of him, Harry. He has never physically harmed a student, but his tongue is razor sharp."

"I know. He gives me the creeps. Mrs. Norris too."

"Oh, the cat isn't bad. She's hunted with me a time or two and is actually very clever. But she's loyal to her master, and that means she accompanies him on patrols looking for students wandering around at night. Still, I can't fault her for that. Any familiar worth its fur or feathers is loyal to her wizard, or else she isn't worthy of the name. She told me once that she has spoken to Filch a few times about his dreadful attitude, but he refuses to listen to her advice. And there's not much she can do about that."

"But Severus listens to you sometimes when you tell him things."

"Our relationship is different than most wizard/familiar pairings. Severus respects me as a close friend, as I do him. Ravens are not servants to their wizards, like dogs or other animals. We speak our own minds as we see fit, and keep our own counsel as well. Cats are much the same, probably why Mrs. Norris prefers my company."

By then Harry was feeling sleepy and starting to nod off. Skull began to sing a lullaby.

Harry drifted off to the raven warbling "Rock-a-bye baby."

At dinner, which was brown rice with salt, some more applesauce, toast, and chicken broth, Harry ate with Severus, who had grilled chicken, a baked potato and some mixed vegetables. Severus gave him some reading material and a newspaper, and played Exploding Snap until Harry grew tired.

Afterwards, on the way back to his quarters, he was ambushed by Ron, Hermione, Neville and even Malfoy, wanting to know why Harry was in the Hospital Wing. "He has a contagious stomach virus. He should be better in a few days, then you may visit him."

All four grimaced, and Hermione cried, "Poor Harry! He seems to have the worst luck."

"It does seem that way at times," Severus replied.

"May we study in your quarters, sir?" asked Neville, a bit diffidently.

"You may, as long as you behave," Snape reminded them.

They all agreed, and trooped into the professor's rooms, but without Harry their study session was lacking and they felt his absence keenly.

Harry woke the next morning feeling much better. Madam Pomfrey ran her wand over him and pronounced him over the stomach flu. She gave him breakfast—it was brown sugar oatmeal with bananas and some toast, plus some tea. Skull arrived and perched on the end of the bed frame, warbling, "Oh, It's a Beautiful Morning", before chirring, "How do you feel, Harry? All better now?"

"Hello, Skull. I feel fine." Harry said. "How are you and Severus?"

"Sev's healthy as a horse, and I'm in fine fettle myself, bran- boy."

"I'll go see him as soon as I'm allowed out of here." Harry promised. He spooned up the last of his oatmeal and drank down his tea.

"Poppy, he's done with his breakfast!" Skull called the medi-witch over.

Poppy bustled over. "How's that sitting with you, Mr. Potter? Do you feel nauseous?"

"No, ma'am," Harry answered.

"The Gryffindor Flash is back!" Skull sang. "Time to let him outta prison, nurse!"

Harry giggled at Skull's impudence.

"Really, Skull!" Poppy shook a reproving finger at the raven. "I'm not that bad."

The raven cocked his head and cawed, "You're a regular Florence Nightingale, my dear! A boon to the sisterhood of nurses, the bearer of the lantern of hope."

"Flatterer!" Poppy pretended to frown at him, but she sounded pleased. "Go on with you both! Before Severus frets himself to death."

She Transfigured his hospital pajamas to his uniform before dismissing him.

Harry made haste to get to his guardian's quarters, Skull leading the way like an omen.

"You look much improved, Harry," Severus stated when Harry had come into his suite. "But I would suggest you take it easy with lunch and dinner today. Try and avoid any spicy, rich, or heavily fried food. They might not sit well with you." He said.

"All right," Harry agreed, for he had no wish to throw up again.

Severus straightened Harry's tie and robes, and then brushed the boy's messy hair.

"Uncle Severus, I can brush my own hair!" Harry protested, wriggling.

"Then why do you not do so?" asked his guardian sternly, combing firmly.

"I didn't have time to worry 'bout my hair, I just got out of the Hospital Wing and I came right here," his ward objected, trying to duck.

"Stop moving, for Merlin's sake!" Severus ordered. "You need a trim, but I haven't time to do it now."

"I don't want my hair cut," objected Harry. "I like it the way it is."

"It looks like the underside of a mop. It's getting trimmed tonight."

"I'm growing it out long."

Severus snorted. "Since when? Just now?" He flattened Harry's stubborn cowlick with some Sleek-EZ Hair Gel. "There! At least now you don't look like a sheepdog's relative."

Harry pulled away and stomped into the bathroom. He groaned loudly when he looked in the mirror. "Ahh! Uncle Severus, I look like a dork! I can't go to class like this!"

"You can and you shall, now go and fetch your bookbag and go to the hall. Your friends have been asking for you."

"I feel like I'm going to puke."

"Try again, Mr. Potter." Severus crossed his arms.

"Your hair looks neat, Harry," Skull put in. "Like a barn swallow's nest."

"Thanks, Skull. I really needed to hear that," Harry grumbled.

"Skull, keep quiet," Severus ordered sharply.

Harry sulked, but Severus won, and he went to class. He wondered grumpily if Ron ever had to deal with these problems. Guardians!

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

At lunch Harry ate a simple cheese sandwich and crisps, and drank ice water. He quietly informed Ron that he would be playing in the upcoming Quidditch game that weekend.

"Good for you, mate! Hope you find the Snitch quick and we win."

Hermione, tired of hearing about Quidditch, brought up Flamel's biography. "Was it very interesting? I studied Sir Isaac Newton in primary school, he was a fascinating scientist."

Harry agreed, having also studied Newton and his Theory of Gravity.

Ron rolled his eyes as the two discussed the scientist, having no clue what they were babbling about. He turned to Neville and asked if he liked the Chudley Cannons, and soon was engaged in a discussion of who was the better professional Seeker and Chaser.

"So the mirror definitely said the Stone was here at the school?" Hermione hissed in his ear.

"Uh huh. But it disappeared before I could try and ask it any more questions," Harry told her.

"Where do you think it's hidden?"

"No idea," Harry shrugged. "But somebody's trying to steal it."

"Well, they can't get into the school, right?" Hermione mused.

"Unless they're already here," Harry said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there could be someone hiding here, waiting for their chance to steal it."

"An inside job?"

Harry nodded.

Hermione's eyes were wide. "But who? They'd have to be working for You-Know-Who."

"My thoughts exactly." Harry murmured.

"Harry, we have to tell someone! Like McGonagall or Professor Snape."

"Hermione, we don't even know if I'm right. Besides, I'm thinking that's why it was brought here, to protect it."

"Why not just leave it at Gringotts?"

"Because maybe Gringotts isn't safe."

"But Gringotts has never been broken into. It's impenetrable."

"Nothing's impenetrable. It's like saying the Titanic was unsinkable," Harry reminded her. "Where there's a will, there's a way."

"What are we going to do?"

"Try and figure out who the thief is."

"How do we do that?"

"Watch everyone and see if you can spot anything suspicious." Harry told her.

"All right." Hermione agreed. "I'm sure we could figure it out if we work at it. We'll need to keep a list of suspects."

"What are you going on about?" Ron asked, having caught Hermione's last sentence.

"Harry and I are on a mission to catch a thief," Hermione explained. She told Ron what they were planning. "Want to help?"

Ron looked dubious. "I guess. But I don't even know what to look for."

"Just keep your eyes open and your ear to the ground," advised the young witch.

"Whatever," sighed Ron. He was just happy that the Quidditch Cup was still within reach.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

"Mr. Potter, if you don't quit twitching, I'm Sticking you to the chair," an exasperated Potions Master told his ward that night, as he attempted to trim Harry's hair.

"But the back of my neck itches," Harry mumbled. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"It's a simple procedure," Severus snapped. "If you would be still, I wouldn't be in danger of making you bald." He snipped some more off the top of Harry's head.

Harry gulped and froze. "I'm not moving. I'm not moving," he muttered to himself over and over as Severus cut. Please God, I hope Severus knows what he's doing.

Bits of hair drifted down over his face as Severus moved and trimmed his bangs. Harry felt his nose twitch, then he sneezed.

"Harry James Potter!" cried the professor. "You almost made me shear off a huge clump of hair."

"Sorry. I couldn't help it. The hair tickles. Maybe I should have worn a mask."

"Never you mind. Hold still, I'm nearly finished."

Harry gritted his teeth. Finally the snipping stopped.

He felt Severus run a comb through his newly shorn locks, mutter a Drying Charm, and then brush off the hair that clung to his neck and face with a small soft bristle brush.

"Open your eyes, Harry."

Harry opened his eyes. "It's over?"

"Yes. Go and take a look in the mirror."

Harry cautiously went to see. To his shock, his hair wasn't a wreck, as he had feared it would be. Nor did he look like some hayseed farmboy. His hair fell in loose waves about his face, trimmed neatly above the ears, and the cowlick was gone. The back of his head was now even and no longer shaggy.

"Well?"

"It's . . . it looks really . . . nice, Uncle Severus." He ran his hand through the silky dark cap. Now he felt silly, making such a fuss over a haircut. "Thanks. Sorry I was such a pain in the rear."

"Next time perhaps you will trust me, hmm? I won't have anyone saying that I neglect you."

"Oh, I will." Harry reassured him. He gave his guardian an apologetic smile. "You cut hair much better than Aunt Petunia."

"I shall take that as a compliment," said Snape dryly. "Now, I believe you have homework?"

Harry sighed. "When don't I?" He pulled out his books and began to read. The weekend couldn't come soon enough.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

Finally, the day of the match dawned. Harry discovered that his goggles fit much better over his trimmed hair than they had previously. Hermione had even commented that she liked his hair, that it made him look sharp. "I think that style suits you well, Harry. It makes you look older, more sophisticated. Right, Ron?"

Ron looked up. "Huh?"

"Harry's hair. Don't you think it makes him look older?"

Ron squinted. "I dunno. He still looks eleven to me."

"Boys! You're all hopeless!" Hermione groaned.

Recalling that conversation made Harry grin. He had woken up early because Wood wanted them to drill before the game. So he spent two hours on the pitch Saturday morning before going to shower and eat breakfast. He ate sparingly, and drank his nutrient supplement. Severus was not refereeing this game, but he had assured Harry that he would be keeping a close eye on the game. That made Harry feel a little less apprehensive. He still didn't know who was behind those attacks, but Severus was doing his best to protect him. Harry fingered his protective amulet, which he wore beneath his shirt. He had given his pocket watch to Severus to hold till the game was over.

The stands were packed when Harry flew out on his Nimbus with the rest of the team. As they made a lap around the stands so everyone could see them, he saw Ron, Hermione, and Neville waving a large banner that read Go, Harry, Go! Catch That Snitch! As he passed the Slytherin side, several of that House made derogatory comments, but he saw Severus give him an encouraging look and applaud lightly as he passed. Harry felt as if he had already won the Cup. Severus was supporting him, despite the fact that the Potions Master found Quidditch a waste of time. Even Malfoy gave him a nod. Harry grinned and waited for the whistle to sound as he hovered in place.

The Quaffle was released by Madam Hooch, and the game was on!

Harry soared up and above the other players, who were scrambling for the Quaffle or trying to knock the Bludgers back towards the other team. Once he was above the fray, he concentrated upon finding the Snitch. His eyes darted here, there, and everywhere, searching. He blessed Severus for paying for new glasses, so his eyes were doubly sharp.

As Harry sought the elusive golden globe, Severus made certain to watch his ward closely. He had examined Harry's Nimbus just before the match and it was clean of any jinxes. He looked about the pitch scanning the area for any unusual magical presences or creatures. Nothing. Still, he remained on alert until the game ended, when Harry dove like a bat out of hell and caught the Snitch a mere three feet from the ground.

Severus forced himself to applaud and give his ward a smile of approval, though he longed to yank the boy from his broom and shake him hard for being such a daredevil. "This is why I hate Quidditch," groused the Potions Master to Skullduggery.

"Calm down, Sev," the raven trilled soothingly. "The bran-boy's fine. He flies well."

"Who asked for your two Knuts?"

Skull ignored Severus' comment and glanced about, spotting Quirrell leaving the stands with a very sour look on his face. "Psst! Sev, look there! Professor Troll Breath seems to be awfully mad, for someone who claims to take no sides in Quidditch."

Severus turned his head and saw what the raven meant. He rose and followed silently after the other professor, his instincts rousing. There was something not right about Quirinius, and Severus suspected him greatly of being a pawn of the Dark Lord.

He caught up to Quirrell just as the other was heading towards the Forbidden Forest. "Something wrong, Quirinius?" he queried silkily, his tone edge in steel. "Squeamish?"

Quirrell turned, shaking visibly. "S-Severus, I'm n-n-not sure w-w-what you m-m-mean."

"Where are you going in such a hurry? Was the game not to your liking? Or do you have an important meeting with the centaurs?"

"N-No. I-I d-d-don't . . .I-I'm just . . ."

"Just what? Going to meet your contact, to slip him some more information?" Severus demanded, grabbing Quirrell by the front of his robes and glaring at him. "Is that what you really are, Quirinius? A spy? Because you are the poorest excuse for a Defense professor I have ever seen."

Quirrell laughed nervously. "S-Severus, I d-d-don't know what you're t-t-talking about!" His eyes darted back and forth. "P-Put me d-d-down."

"Quirinius, don't lie. You're terrible at it. Why are you so interested in the Sorcerer's Stone?"

"B-Because we have t-to keep it safe!"

"A likely excuse. You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," Severus leaned in until he was almost nose to nose with the purple turbaned wizard.

"Of course not, Severus!"

"If I find out you've been double-crossing us, Quirinius . . ." Severus trailed off, preferring to let the cowardly slob draw his own conclusions.

"D-Don't be silly!" Quirrell gave a weak chuckle.

"We'll talk again soon, and you had better convince me where your true loyalties lie. Or else." He released the other with a sharp jerk, then whirled on his heel and strode back to the castle. Quirrell was definitely hiding something. He had barely been able to look Snape in the eye, and that was a sure sign of deception, or Severus wasn't a secret agent.

On the way there, he encountered Harry, and clapped him on the shoulder and said he had played a good game, then he gave Harry his pocket watch back. Then he left his ward to the celebration that followed, as Gryffindor was in the lead and only had to play Slytherin one more time to claim the coveted Quidditch Cup.

Skullduggery fluttered beside him. "Well? What did Mr. Tongue-tied have to say?"

"He protested his innocence, but I didn't believe a word." Severus said out of the corner of his mouth.

"He's guilty as sin, Sev. I'd watch him closely."

"I intend to. Go and keep an eye on Harry, Skull."

"My pleasure." The raven winged away, singing, "We Are the Champions" while flying circles backwards above Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team's heads.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

Not long after the Quidditch game, Harry received a letter during the morning mail drop. He knew Hedwig had brought it to Severus first for inspection, as the professor was still insisting on examining Harry's post for any maleficent jinxes. He fed his owl a piece of ham from his plate and stroked her before tearing open the letter.

Harry,

I am very disappointed with you. Not only did you fail to follow my advice, you have allowed the greasy cauldron bat to dictate rules and regulations to you, as if you were a slave. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, a Potter taking orders from a slimy half-blood! Severus Snape is an evil despot, he is unfit to hold the position of professor; and especially unfit to be your guardian.

Why will you not see this? Your mother knew the truth, she used to call him friend until he betrayed her, then she saw the wisdom in my words, and abandoned him to his dark purpose. Your father detested him, he knew what sort of sly treacherous bastard Snape was from the beginning. He would be horrified to see you cozying up to such a viper. Snape is a servant of darkness, don't let him fool you.

This is your second warning—tell the git to go to hell and leave him.

Or else you'll regret it.

The Fifth Marauder

Harry felt a cold chill run down his spine.

"Who's it from, Harry?" asked Hermione curiously.

"You look pale, Harry. Anything wrong?" Neville inquired.

"Is it bad news?" Ron wanted to know.

Harry sighed and shoved the letter at him, "Read it for yourself."

Ron did, with Hermione leaning over his shoulder.

"Harry, you'd better show this to Professor Snape," cried Hermione.

"She's right, mate," Ron said, ignoring the rest of the table gaping at him for agreeing with Hermione. "Whoever this bloke is, he's cracked as my grandmother's china teapot."

"I know. I'll show it to him soon as I can."

Harry tucked the letter into his pocket and tried not to feel as if there were a big bullseye painted on his back.

But he couldn't get a moment alone with the potions professor until almost lunch time. Snape was in his office, grading homework when Harry rushed in and showed him the letter.

Severus read it and glared at the parchment with a look that should have made it spontaneously combust. "Harry, I want you to promise me you will go nowhere by yourself and stay within the castle at night, unless accompanied by an adult. Whoever this Fifth Marauder is, he seems to be a vengeful sort. He could be anywhere, but I doubt he will strike if there are witnesses."

"Could he hurt you?"

"It's possible, but I'm more concerned about you. Promise me."

"I promise," Harry agreed. "Do you know who he might be?"

"No. But I intend to find out. If any more of these letters come, or something else happens, come to me immediately."

"I will, Uncle Sev."

Severus ruffled Harry's hair. "Get to lunch. You're starving, I can hear your stomach grumbling. Skull will accompany you," Severus nudged the sleeping raven awake, he was snoozing on the back of his chair.

With the raven perched on his shoulder, Harry went to lunch, wishing whoever this Fifth Marauder was would just go drown himself in the lake. This was all he needed.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

For the next few weeks, Harry's friends, including, oddly enough, Malfoy, made certain he was escorted everywhere. Ron even accompanied him into the bathroom, which caused a fierce quarrel between them, with Harry insisting that was over the top.

"But Harry, a lot of crimes and pranks are committed in the loo!" Ron protested. "Fred and George used to make the toilets explode on me and stuff. And my Uncle Mark got turned into a turtle by a crazy customer when he went to use the loo in his restaurant. He was almost made into turtle soup!"

"Ron, you're being ridiculous!" Harry yelled, turning bright red and stalking out of the bathroom. He bumped into Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," growled the other. "I thought Snape got you new glasses."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry growled, walking quickly down the hall to the dungeons.

"Hey, Harry!" Ron called.

Harry kept walking. "Leave me alone, Ron! I'm going to Snape's quarters."

"But—"

"Weasley, let me handle him," Draco ordered arrogantly, and followed Harry. "Where are you going?" he asked as he caught up to Harry.

"Somewhere I can pee in peace." Harry muttered, face flaming. "The professor has a bathroom in his suite and it's warded, so . . ."

Draco smirked. "I hope you have good bladder control, Potter. Or an extra set of trousers, because this isn't around the corner, you know."

Harry scowled. "At least I won't feel like a bloody toddler."

He reached Snape's quarters and murmured the password, then turned the knob and stalked inside, slamming the door behind him.

Severus was reading a potions journal. "Is there a problem, Harry?"

"No. Everything's just fine, can't you tell?" his ward snapped. "I just want some privacy." He crossed the den and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. As he did so, he heard a knock on the door of Snape's quarters, and then Draco's voice.

Harry stayed in the bathroom for awhile, then finally emerged. Draco was waiting on the couch.

"I'm going to study," Harry announced, and sat at the table and began to work on his Astronomy.

He was soon joined by Draco, and then Neville, Ron, and Hermione. He pretended not to notice Ron, focusing on learning about Jupiter and all its moons, until the redhead murmured, "Harry, I was only trying to help."

"Drop it, Ron, okay? You're not my bloody bodyguard."

Ron winced. "Harry, you never know what could happen . . ."

Harry jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing. "I said, shut up about it!"

Severus set down his journal and rose to his feet. "Mr. Potter, if you cannot control your temper and speak in a normal tone of voice, you can leave and return to Gryffindor Tower. Or go to your room."

Harry turned. "Ron started it! Why don't you send him away, sir?"

"Mr. Weasley is not the one screaming at the top of his lungs. Now moderate that tone, am I understood?"

"All I want is to be left alone!" Harry shouted, too fed up to guard his tongue, or recognize his guardian's warning tone.

Severus stiffened. Then he lifted his hand and pointed. "Go to your room, young man. Immediately!" His tone could have stripped a dragon's hide off of it. "I shall be in to discuss your behavior soon."

That penetrated Harry's bad mood. Biting his lip, Harry obeyed, slamming the door after him.

All three of the other children gasped. Snape looked ready to explode. He turned away briefly and counted to ten under his breath. Then he said, in a deceptively calm tone, "You may continue to study until eight o'clock."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione whispered, and dropped her eyes to her text.

Ron did the same, and thought about how Harry was so going to regret his temper tantrum. He wondered if Snape was going to take Harry's Nimbus away and make him scrub the dungeon.

Draco recalled the paddle in the drawer of Snape's desk and winced, thinking that his rival was going to have trouble sitting down tomorrow, if the expression on Snape's face was anything to go by. Then he too bent his head and began to read.

Severus returned to his recliner, struggling to get hold of his simmering temper. He did not want to confront the boy while he was so angry, he needed time to cool down and think rationally. He took a few deep breaths and started to read again. He would give the defiant child half-an-hour to think about what he'd done and then he would go and give the wretch the rough edge of his tongue, and maybe even some time scrubbing his dirtiest cauldrons.

You could have heard a pin drop, the room was so quiet.

Finally, the three students began to quietly discuss their homework, and Severus glanced at the clock. It was seven forty-five. Fifteen minutes later, he dismissed his students, they went without saying a word, though Hermione did cast a worried glance at the shut door to Harry's room.

Severus rose and stalked over to the boy's room, tapped once, and went in.

"We need to have a talk—" he began, then broke off as he saw that Harry was asleep, sprawled half on and half off the bed.

Severus approached the bed, scowling down at his sleeping charge. He felt like shaking the boy awake, but then changed his mind. "Don't think being asleep will get you out of a well deserved tongue-lashing, boy," he snapped. "I'll just save it up for tomorrow morning, when you'll be nice and rested and can appreciate every last word, you insolent brat."

Then he Switched Harry's uniform for his pajamas and tucked the covers about his wayward ward. Perhaps it was better this way. He would have more time to plan an appropriate punishment.

He left the room on cat's feet, the dim illumination of a night light casting shadows on the wall behind him.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

A silent alarm around twelve midnight woke Irma from a sound sleep. The alarm was silent to all save herself, she had set a ward about the library to alert her if someone had entered it and was doing damage to anything inside, or trying to remove a book without signing it out.

"Bloody Merlin's ghost!" she swore as she rose, Summoning her bedrobe and slippers, and grabbing her wand off the nightstand. "I knew those wretched children couldn't resist breaking into the library after curfew. When I catch whoever is in there, they're going to wish they never got out of bed this morning!"

She quickly exited her quarters and walked swiftly across the hall to the library doors, cancelling the ward as she crossed the threshold. The annoying buzzing quit ringing in her ears, and a single overhead lamp came on as she walked in, illuminating a horrifying sight.

There was a large table in the center of the room, to the left of the circulation desk and in front of the bookshelf of the Society of Ravens. Various scraps of paper from several books were scattered on top of and beneath it, and ink was slowly dripping from an upended inkwell onto the polished wood floor. Quills were snapped in two and flung on the floor as well. But that was not the worst.

Irma put a hand to her mouth as she crept closer to the table, fury pounding a tempo in her head as she took in the damage done to her precious books and library. How dare they? How DARE they? There was an odd black lump in the middle of the table, lying next to a book whose title read Secrets of the Roman Augurs, it was an old text detailing how the ancient Romans used auguries to predict important events in their lives. Irma recalled that many augurs read omens in the entrails of goats or birds.

She stared down at the table, uncomprehending at first. It took her eyes and brain a few moments to process the atrocious sight that met her eyes.

Her owl, a tiny elf owl, lay upon the table, eviscerated. A sign was pinned to the poor thing's corpse.

Beware! Next time this could be you!

"Merlin have mercy!" she whimpered, half of her fist still covering her mouth. She began to cry. "Pippin! Oh, Pippin!"

Her mind whirled, trying in vain to figure out who could have committed this terrible deed. She felt equal parts of crippling sorrow and burning rage. Someone had killed her familiar, gentle Pippin who had been her companion for over twenty years.

Then she heard a noise behind her.

"Who's there?" she cried, and started to turn, her wand gripped in her fist.

Something struck her hard in the back of the head.

She cried out, then felt herself falling . . .falling into blackness.

Severus had learned to wake at the slightest noise, and Harry's scream was like a siren in his ears. He was on his feet, wand at the ready, and striding across the den before the haze of sleep had fully cleared from his brain. But fast as he was, Skullduggery was faster.

The raven launched himself into the air and streaked towards Harry's room at lightning speed, arriving there scant seconds before the Potions Master. "Bran-boy, are you well?" cawed Skull, his voice that of a concerned woman he had heard at the Tower of London one day.

The raven hovered in the air above Harry's bed, eyes darting left and right. But there was nothing in Harry's room that Skullduggery could see or sense with his otherworldly instincts. No boggart lurking in the wardrobe, or zombie in the closet. Not that Skull had expected anything to be there, Severus' wards would have kept out the High Lord of Hell, they were that powerful.

No, the cause of Harry's scream was not from an outside source. It had come from within, the raven observed, as Harry jerked upright, his hair sticking in all directions, green eyes wide with a fascinated kind of horror, as if he had witnessed an atrocity committed and been unable to look away in spite of himself. He wrapped his arms about himself and shivered.

"Easy, bran-boy. It was just a nightmare," Skull crooned, flying down to land on Harry's blanket covered knee. The raven made his head feathers stand up and then flatten repeatedly and made a soothing purring noise.

Severus appeared at the bedroom door a moment afterwards. "Harry? What's the matter?" he asked, looking about in alarm.

Harry was too upset to answer his guardian at first, so he kept silent, fixing his eyes upon an unraveled thread in his comforter. His heart was pounding like a runaway train, and the terrible image that had caused him to scream in terror still hung before his eyes.

"I think he had a nightmare, Sev," Skull told the other wizard helpfully.

"Obviously," the other rolled his eyes. Then he approached his ward, moving slowly so as not to startle the boy further. He reached out and laid a hand upon Harry's shoulder lightly, not gripping, but almost patting after a fashion. "It's all right, child. You're awake, in your own room, and there is nothing here to harm you. Skull and I would never let anything happen to you."

Severus kept his voice low, his tone soothing, like rich dark velvet it flowed about the frightened boy, until Harry shifted his eyes a quarter of an inch upward and looked at Severus.

"I know, Uncle Severus. It's just . . ." Harry reached out a hand and began to stroke Skull, the touch of the raven's sleek obsidian feathers against his hand calming him better than any potion.

For long moments he stroked the raven, and Severus waited patiently for Harry to reveal what he had dreamed that had frightened him so.

The Potions Master seated himself upon the bed, still resting one long-fingered hand upon Harry's shoulder. He did not ask any more probing questions, wishing the boy to tell him about the nightmare of his own volition. The professor was relieved that a nightmare was all it had been, for a moment he had feared Harry had been attacked by the same something that had gone after Irma, despite his wards. But his fears were now groundless, and he exhaled softly.

Harry worried his bottom lip, considering whether or not to speak of his dream with his guardian. He didn't think Snape would sneer at him for reacting the way he had to the nightmare. But he wasn't sure he could speak of the awful thing without breaking down, this nightmare was almost as bad as the one he used to have of his mother dying.

Absently, he reached up and rubbed his scar, it was throbbing.

"Your scar is hurting?" the sharp-eyed wizard asked.

Harry nodded. "A little bit. I don't know why."

Severus gently tilted his ward's chin up so he could better examine the scar. It looked red and irritated. Waving his wand, Severus Summoned some Essence of Dittany salve and applied it to the scar. The redness vanished immediately. "How do you feel now?"

"Better, sir. Thank you."

Severus banished the salve back to his cabinet. "When did your scar begin hurting?"

"Right after I woke up." Harry admitted.

"Hmm . . ." Severus looked thoughtful. Could there be a connection to the nightmare? Had Harry been sent a vision or perhaps shared a memory with the one who had given him the scar? Severus knew that most of the wizarding world assumed Voldemort had perished, but he knew that the Dark Lord had practiced many old spells to preserve his existence, and might have had a part of his spirit survive.

"What do you think it means?"

"I am not sure," Severus replied. "It could mean nothing or anything."

"What did you dream of?" queried Skullduggery, curious.

"Do you really want to know? Because I . . . really don't want to talk about it."

"Then you do not have to," Severus said simply, and leveled a warning look at his familiar.

"True, but speaking of it might help," Skull told Harry. "It would help you clear your mind."

Harry heaved a sigh. He knew the raven was correct. Speaking of his nightmares about Lily had helped him resolve the night terrors. One thing he was certain of, and that was he never wanted to have this particular dream again. "All right. I'll give it a go. But it was weird. I don't understand why I even dreamed it, Uncle Severus." He coughed slightly, as his throat was dry.

Severus snapped his fingers and a cup of cool water appeared on the night stand. "Here. This will soothe your throat. You sound as if you are catching a cold."

Harry drank the water, it cooled his throat, and then he began. "In the dream . . . I was walking through a huge forest. The trees were so big I couldn't see the tops of them and the ground was wreathed in mist. I felt like I was walking forever, the forest was so quiet, there weren't any birds or insects making noise. It was eerie. Then I heard it . . . the scream of . . . something in pain. I didn't want to keep on, but I had to. It was like something was tugging at me and I had to keep walking.

"Finally, I came into a clearing and I saw . . . I saw it. A unicorn, just lying on the ground, its eyes were blank and still. It was dead, I could see the wound in its chest. Like . . like something had ripped open its chest. There were pools of blood all over the ground. But that wasn't the worst. There was a . . . thing hovering over the body . . . it was dark and cloaked and it . . . was feeding off the unicorn . . . like a vampire. It was drinking the unicorn blood and I could feel . . . it enjoying it . . . It had glowing red eyes, like a beast . . . and it tore the unicorn apart in the end . . . Then it laughed and laughed . . . I was so scared it would find me . . . Then it looked at me and I knew I was going to die . . . only I woke up instead." He looked faintly ashamed. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"You have no need to apologize," the professor brushed off the boy's shame and guilt. "Remember, I told you before that you may always come to me with a problem, Harry. That nightmare sounds very vivid, almost like a vision rather than a dream . . . perhaps someday we should test you to see if you bear the talent of the Sight, though that talent usually runs in families and the Potters never possessed it."

"What about my mum's family?"

"The Evans were Muggles, and as far as I know, your mother was the only witch of her line. Still . . . it's possible, Muggles do possess some strains of magic. But we can explore that possibility another time."

"Those with the Old Magic often see things from afar," Skull croaked abruptly.

"Then you think it was real . . . not just a dream?" asked Harry.

The raven fluffed his feathers. "Sometimes a dream is merely a dream, other times it is not. And even if it wasn't, who is to say whether what you saw was a vision that may be, or could be, or will be? Only a trained Seer could determine that, and sometimes not even then."

"A fine thing to set the boy's mind at ease, Skullduggery," scolded Severus.

"Hey, I tell it like it is, Snape." The raven hissed.

"For now, we shall assume it was not a foretelling," Severus quickly asserted, for he didn't wish to be up all night. But the scar hurting bothered him profoundly, as it suggested a link to something dark and dangerous. He did not want to alarm Harry, and so he spoke nothing of his theory. Instead, he said, "If you would like, I can help you Occlude your mind for tonight."

"How do you do that?"

"You must let me enter your memories for a brief time, so I can place mind shields inside your head. It will not hurt, but do you trust me enough to allow me to see those memories again?"

"Will it keep the nightmare from returning?"

"Yes", Snape replied. It would also prevent anything from gaining access to Harry's mind.

"Go ahead," Harry acquiesced.

Severus placed the tip of his wand against Harry's forehead and said, "Legilimens."

He quickly found the memory of the nightmare, as it was fresh in the boy's mind, corralled it and fenced it with a thick layer of nothing in particular, a blank wall that was impossible to see through. Then he set certain mind shields inside Harry's head, triple-layered so no psychic intrusion was possible. It took about three minutes to do so and then Severus withdrew.

"There! It is done."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Uncle Severus. But there's just one problem."

"Oh?"

"Now I'm wide awake and not sleepy."

"Perhaps some warm milk with honey might help?" the professor suggested, as that was his mother's remedy whenever he couldn't fall asleep as a child.

"All right."

Snape requested a glass from one of the school elves, and it soon popped up on the nightstand.

But even after drinking it and snuggling down beneath the covers, Harry was still not sleepy.

Skull crooned a lullaby, but even the raven failed to coax the boy back to sleep. "Perhaps a story, Sev? A good story always makes me sleep. You told me once that when you were a boy, you used to read before bed."

"I still do, you meddling featherduster," the Potions Master grumbled. But the raven's suggestion caused him to remember a favorite book he had read over and over as a child. In fact, he still owned the copy. "Accio The Jungle Book stories."

Mere moments later a rather worn copy of said book, with a dust jacket of a boy and a panther on the cover flew into Snape's hand. The pages were still crisp and tight, if a bit yellowed with age. He turned to Harry, who was peering at the book curiously. "The Jungle Bookby Rudyard Kipling. Have you read this before?"

"No. I saw it in the library back in Surrey, and always meant to take it out, but I never had the chance. Aunt Petunia would never let me have a library card, and it was too long to read it one sitting, while I was hiding from Dudley."

Severus muttered something under his breath that was very uncomplimentary about Harry's relatives. "Well, this was mine when I was ten, I shall loan it to you if you'd like."

"Please!" the green eyes were alight with joy. "I'll be very careful with it."

"I know you shall." Severus started to hand the book to him.

Harry abruptly asked, "Maybe you could . . . read it to me? It's not that I can't read it myself . . . but sometimes Uncle Vernon used to read to Dudley . . . and I've always . . . Never mind, I guess I'm too old for it now."

In answer, Severus opened the book to the first chapter, and began to read the story of Mowgli. His deep rich voice filled the room, and Harry found himself transported to the jungles of India, at a time when the animals ruled in their own world, and men hardly ventured. Severus read of how a baby had wandered away and found the cave of a mother wolf by night, and she raised him as her own, calling him Mowgli-which meant frog—for he was hairless as one, and protected him from Shere Khan, the lame tiger, who wished to eat him. And so Mowgli became a boy raised by wolves.

By the time Severus had reached the end of the first chapter, Harry found his eyes starting to close. He yawned and murmured, "It's a really good story, but I'm falling asleep."

"We shall read some more tomorrow night," the professor said, marking the page with a scrap of blue ribbon, an old hair ribbon of Eileen's, as he had done as a boy. He rose to his feet and before he could Nox the light, Harry was asleep.

Skull flew to Severus' shoulder. "Good job, Dad," the raven hissed in his ear. "And now, to bed, for I am weary."

"You're not the only one," snorted the Potions Master, and glided from the room, leaving the door ajar.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

The next evening, Severus read some more about Mowgli, and his animal teachers, Baloo the Bear, who taught all the cubs the Jungle Law, and the clever Bagheera, the black Panther, who had been born in captivity but had freed himself and became wild. Harry came to look forward to his evenings with Severus after a long day of classes. It was pleasant to be read to after studying and practicing magic, especially since Hermione kept pushing Ron, Draco, Neville, and him to study more, since exams were coming up in a little over a month. Sometimes Skull would chime in, doing impressions of different voices, like Akela the wise pack leader, or Shere Khan the tiger, and Severus had the hissing soft voice of Kaa the Rock Python down cold.

Irma was still at St. Mungos, still in a coma, and Lena stayed with her as much as she could, nearly a week had passed since Irma had been struck down by her mysterious assailant. Severus visited the two librarians one night after supper. Several students had sent owls of cards and baskets of fruit and candy, even a plant and some books. Lena had them all lined up on a table, with preserving spells set on the fruit, waiting for Irma to wake and enjoy the bounty of gifts.

Lena sat in a comfortable wingback chair, quietly talking to Irma, telling her what had happened since she had been sent to St. Mungos. She looked up when Severus entered, saying to him, "Hello, Severus. Aunt Irma, Severus has come to visit. It's too bad you can't open your eyes and say hello to him." To Severus, she said, "It's been studied that patients in comas can sometimes respond to stimuli. So I talk to her every day and let her know that there's still someone here for her."

"I have heard that also," Severus said, noting that Lena looked drawn, as if she hadn't been sleeping much, there were dark circles under her eyes. She seemed wan and depressed. "How long have you been here, Lena?"

"I came as soon as I woke up, right after I had breakfast."

"You've been in this room all day long?"

"Mostly. I . . . I'm afraid to leave her for long, Severus. What if she wakes and I'm not there?"

"That is a possibility, but Lena, you must also think about yourself. It's not healthy to sit and brood on what might be. You need to get out for awhile. How about coming out for some supper with me?" Severus invited. "Or have you eaten already?"

"No . . . I . . . I haven't had much of an appetite lately. I usually grab a bite to eat from the hospital café."

"Some fresh air will do you good. The staff here will monitor Irma and alert you if there's any change." He persuaded. He did not like the way she had become so withdrawn, so changed from the lively young woman she had been.

Lena hesitated. She did long to see something besides the four walls of the hospital room and Severus's offer was tempting. But she felt disloyal to Irma, going out and leaving her aunt alone.

Severus sensed her indecision and said, "Lena, Irma would not want you to remain cloistered in this room for days on end. Come, it's only for an hour or so, then you can return here."

"I . . . all right, Severus. Thank you for inviting me."

"What are friends for?"

They went to a local restaurant, which served generous portions of shepherd's pie and fish and chips. Lena discovered she was ravenous, and devoured everything on the plate, much to her shock. "Merlin! I must have been hungrier than I thought! I don't think I've ever eaten so much in one sitting."

Severus gave a quiet smile and remarked, "It's true what they say, fresh air stimulates the appetite." He himself had finished his own portion of fish and chips.

After dinner, they went for a walk, enjoying the fresh air and each other's company. When at last they returned to the hospital, Lena remained staring down at her aunt, and suddenly a sense of futility and hopelessness overwhelmed her. "Sometimes, Severus . . . I look at her lying there and I almost wish . . . that she had died instead of being trapped forever this way . . . Am I a terrible person to wish that?"

Severus gently tugged her about so she was facing him. "Is it terrible to wish for mercy for a relative? No. I can see where you're coming from."

"I'm glad she survived, but to see her like this, day after day . . . when she was never sick or . . . anything a day in her life. She was always awake with the dawn, always busy reading or researching, learning new spells was her life, it's why she was the Society's archivist . . . Sometimes I wish I had the courage to ask for Ceridwen's Cauldron . . ."

"Even that powerful item would not work on her, Lena, because she's not dead." Severus reminded her sadly. "If there is anything I can do for you . . ."

Sudden tears spilled from her eyes at his tone. Embarrassed, she turned away, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

Severus put an arm about her, and all at once she turned and put her head on his shoulder, crying softly. He held her for a long while, allowing her time to come to grips with her grief. Spent, she leaned into him for a long moment, then said, "Forgive me, I didn't mean to become a waterfall."

"My robe is waterproof," chuckled the Potions Master. "And my shoulder is always available."

She gazed at him through moist eyes, and thought how he was so adept at hiding his gentle side, hedging himself about with sarcasm and prickliness, that no one dared to look beyond the wall of thorns to see his true self. She wondered what had caused him to hide himself away like that, but doubted she would ever have the courage to ask. But she was very grateful to him for helping her. "Thank you, Severus. I'll remember that."

"Please do. Unfortunately, I must get on back to school. Skull is keeping an eye on Harry for me, but I would prefer to oversee him myself, there's no telling what mischief that boy will get into. I shall try and come back on the weekend."

"Again, thank you. I know that eventually I must return to school, I just wish things were more positive with regards to Aunt Irma. Still, one can hope." She gave a small determined smile.

"Irma is a strong witch. If anyone can recover from this, it would be her." Severus said, trying to boost Lena's spirits. That small smile tugged at his heartstrings in a way nothing had since Lily when he was young and innocent. "Good night, Lena."

She waved as he departed, Apparating back to the gates of the school. He returned to his quarters to find Harry just finishing his Transfiguration homework, and ready for another chapter of The Jungle Books.

"Is Madam Pince any better?"

"No, there is no change yet." Severus said. "But there is always a chance that she may recover. We must simply hope it is sooner rather than later."

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

The weekend arrived, and Severus was brewing batches of potions for the Hospital Wing, restocking certain healing cures that had run low due to the winter spate of colds and such. Harry, Neville, and Draco had volunteered to help out by gathering several magical herbs. Ron caught sight of them leaving the castle with gathering baskets over their arms and tagged along.

"Where are you lot going?"

"Nev and I volunteered to help Professor Snape and he told us to go out and gather some herbs for his potions," Harry answered, showing Ron a diagram of the plants they were supposed to harvest.

"How come you're out here so early, Malfoy?" queried the redhead. "Thought you toffs liked to sleep late on Sundays."

Draco gave Ron a look. "Shows how much you know. I'm here to make sure those two come back with the right plants, because I know what they look like. The professor knows better than to trust Longbottom completely. Or Potter either, even if he knows potions recipes."

"Brag much, Malfoy?"

"Draco's right, Ron," Neville spoke up. He'd become a lot more assertive since taking Remedial Potions. "Harry and I have never harvested these ingredients before, and a lot of plants look alike until you've seen a lot of them. I'm pretty good at Herbology, but I've never seen these particular plants before, have you?"

Ron shook his head.

"Then it's a good thing Draco's with us," Neville repeated.

The four boys quickly walked up behind Hagrid's hut, to the meadow above the castle proper, hard by the Forbidden Forest. There they found plenty of the ingredients Snape had requested. Draco showed them how to tell the difference between the magical gold heartsease plant and the common dandelion by the shape of the leaves and color of the flowers.

Harry had moved away from the others, where there were patches of tall grass in the meadow, which was what the gold heartsease liked to grow next to. He spotted a thick tussock close to the border of the forest, but far enough away that it wasn't over the boundary. As he knelt in the grass to gather a likely specimen, he spotted a flash of gold.

Parting the grass, he saw a large golden egg with fiery tongues of flame etched across it. Harry's eyes widened. He had never seen such a huge egg in his life. It seemed to sparkle from within. "Hey, Draco! Neville, Ron! Come and look at this! I found an egg!"

Neville reached him first. "Merlin, Harry! That egg, it's huge! Do you think it's a roc egg? I've heard they can grow as big as that."

"Roc egg?" Draco sneered. "I don't think so, Longbottom. Looks more like a dragon egg to me."

"It isa dragon egg," Ron confirmed, his eyes wide. "My brother Charlie is a dragon tamer in Romania, and I've seen lots of eggs before. I think . . . I think this one might be a Chinese Fireball."

"How'd it get here?" asked Neville.

"I don't know. I just found it there." Harry said.

Ron glanced about. "Dragon eggs don't just show up anywhere. Maybe the mum's around somewhere. Or it was left here by poachers. I heard Hagrid say once that there was trouble with poachers in the forest."

Draco shrugged. "Could be. My father said that once there was a decent trade of dragon eggs on the black market."

Harry sighed. "Look, we could stand here all day and try and figure how the egg got here. What I want to know is what we're going to do with it?"

"We can't keep it," Ron said.

"Whyever not?" Neville asked. "Harry found it."

"Because of the law. It's illegal to have a dragon as a pet, has been since the Warlock's Council of 1706." Ron pointed out. "It's too hard for wizards to hide a dragon from Muggles. Plus, most dragons can't be tamed. They can bite or flame you something awful. You ought to see the scars my brother has from the wild ones at the reserve." Ron said, sounding proud.

"Well, illegal or not, we can't just leave it here," Draco argued. "Something, like a wyvern, is sure to find it and eat it before sundown."

Harry nodded. He felt the same way about the egg, and was glad Skull was not here to report back to Severus today. He had told the raven to take the afternoon off, because Draco and Neville would be with him on his potion ingredient expedition. He stared at the egg again, feeling as if he had found a priceless treasure.

"We need to find out how to take care of it till it hatches," he said. Then he looked at the plant in his hand, its flower drooping. "But first we have to take these ingredients back to Professor Snape."

"Right. Weasley, you stay here with the egg while we go to the dungeons," Draco ordered. "Once we give Professor Snape the ingredients, we're free for the afternoon and we can figure out what to do with egg then."

"Harry, maybe you can find a book in the library about dragons," Neville suggested. "Are you sure we should keep the egg? I've never . . . done anything illegal before. Won't we get in trouble?"

"Only if we're not careful and we get caught," Draco said easily. "Quit worrying, Longbottom. No one else knows about the egg but us, and I hope you have brains enough to keep your mouth shut about it."

"I won't tell anyone, Malfoy. I'm not stupid," Neville said defensively.

"Come on, you two. Let's hurry and bring these ingredient back to Uncle Severus, before he sends Skull out here to see what kept us," Harry said, picking up his basket.

"Uncle Severus?" Ron gaped. "You're . . . calling Snape Uncle Severusnow?"

"Yes. He's my guardian, remember? And I wasn't raised to call adults by their first names, so I call him Uncle Severus." Harry retorted. "Just watch the egg, Ron."

"And keep out of sight," Draco called over his shoulder. "I just hope nobody flies over there today."

"Why would they? There's nothing there for anybody to see," Harry said logically. Even so, he began to walk faster.

Once they had delivered the ingredients, Severus told them to go and amuse themselves until supper, he could finish up the brewing himself. He could tell the three boys were itching to be elsewhere, and suspected they would rather be flying or reading instead of in the lab. Little did he know what they were really up to.

Harry told Draco and Neville to go back to the meadow. "I'll catch up in a bit. I want to see if there's any book in the library I can find."

Harry took the stairs to the library rapidly, hoping that books on dragons weren't in short supply. He suddenly wished Lena and Irma were there to help him find what he needed. Then again, maybe it was a blessing in disguise that they weren't there, for surely they would be asking him why he needed a book about dragons.

He nearly bumped into Hermione as he was going into the library. "Oh, hi, Hermione. Read any good books lately?"

"I just checked out one on Numerology. Why?"

Harry made quick decision. He was going to need Hermione's help to do research. "Come in here, I have something to tell you." He dragged Hermione inside the library, to the corner where he used to study.

"You found a dragonegg?" she cried.

"Shh! Keep your voice down!" Harry scowled. "We have to keep this a secret. If any of the professors found out, they'd take the egg away. Now, I need to find some books on dragons, how to raise them and train them. Will you help me?"

"All right. Just remember, this was your idea, Harry." Hermione sighed. "I don't know how I get involved in these things."

They separated, going to different corners of the library. Harry went to see if the Society of Ravens had any books about dragons, and Hermione went to scope out the Magical Beasts section.

Harry found a book called Dragon Lore: Legends and Facts. Hermione found several books, one titled Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit, Dragon Species and How to Recognize Them and one called From Egg to Inferno: a Dragon Keeper's Guide. "I think these should be useful. At least we'll be able to identify what breed it is."

"Come on, let's get back to the meadow." Harry said, and after they had checked out the books, hurried outside.

Back at the meadow, Draco and Ron were arguing over whether or not the egg was from a Chinese Fireball. Ron kept insisting it was, and Draco argued it wasn't because the egg was not bright crimson with gold spots.

"You don't argue facts, Weasley."

"Well, what else could it be? No other dragon I know of has eggs that color." Ron snapped, not wanting to admit Draco was correct.

"Maybe it's a new species," Neville said.

"I doubt it. If there was a new species discovered, the papers would be full of it," Draco disagreed.

"But Draco . . . what if we're the first ones to find it?"

"Then we'd all be famous like Potter. But I doubt it. It's probably a variation or a rare species."

Harry returned with Hermione, much to Draco's dismay.

"Potter, I thought we agreed—"

"I needed Hermione's help to do research," Harry interrupted. "She can keep her mouth closed."

"Why don't we all swear an oath?" Ron suggested.

"Like an Unbreakable Vow?" squeaked Neville.

"Of course not like that! I mean a promise made on our wizard's honor to never tell anyone at school—except Hagrid—about the egg or the dragon when it hatches." Ron snorted. "All right, who's in? Put your hand atop mine and swear the most excellent promise you can make."

First Harry, then Draco, then Neville, and finally Hermione placed their hands atop each other's and swore never to reveal the dragon to anyone at school, except for Hagrid.

That done, Hermione began reading the chapter on dragon eggs in the dragon keeper's guide. "It says here that you must keep the egg warm, since a mother dragon bathes her egg daily in her flames to keep her baby from getting chilled. Also, when the dragon hatches, you should have plenty of chicken blood mixed with brandy to feed it. Yuck! That's disgusting!" she made a face. "Where are we going to get that? We'd have to . . . kill chickens or something."

"And raid Dumbledore's liquor cabinet," Draco smirked. "My father told me once that the old man likes his brandy at night, and always keeps a bottle on hand in the cabinet behind his desk."

Neville looked horrified. "We can't just . . . break into the Headmaster's office and steal from him!"

"Why don't we just ask Hagrid?" Harry said. "I'm sure he can help, he's always wanted a dragon and he drinks brandy too. And he keeps chickens too. I've helped him gather their eggs over the holiday."

"Great idea, Harry! Anybody got a cloak to cover the egg?" Ron asked.

Neville gave up his cloak so they could wrap the egg in it. "Hagrid also has a giant fireplace."

Together they took turns carrying the egg, as it was heavy and awkward. When they reached Hagrid's hut, Harry knocked on the door.

He heard Fang bark, then Hagrid opened the door.

"Hiya, Harry! Come in, it's been a long time since I've seen you." His eyes widened when he caught sight of the rest of them. "What's this, a party?"

"No, it's a conspiracy," Harry muttered. "Quick, Hagrid, let us in and we'll show you something you've always wanted."

"But first you have to swear wizard's oath not to reveal anything to anyone . . . on pain of death!" Draco said sternly.

"Now what're you kids up to?" Hagrid asked. But he swore the oath, as Harry had hoped he would.

Only then did Harry unwrap the egg in Draco's arms and show the gamekeeper their unexpected windfall.

"Crikey, Harry! That's a dragon egg! Where'd yeh get it? I've been after getting' myself a dragon egg fer years!"

"I found it in the meadow while I was gathering potion ingredients," Harry said.

"We don't know how it got there, but we had to save it," Draco added.

"We're going to need the use of your fireplace and also a mixture of brandy and chicken's blood to feed it once it hatches," Hermione told Hagrid.

"I'll help yeh any way I can," the gamekeeper said eagerly. He began clearing out a space to put the egg in the fireplace, making a mound of ashes and soot to place the egg in, then surrounding it with wood and igniting the fire to keep it warm and toasty. "There we go! Nice an' warm, jus' like its mama would do."

"Looks great, Hagrid!" Neville said, grinning.

"Now we need to find out what kind it is," Ron muttered. "Hermione, what's the book say about identifying dragon eggs?"

"Let me see . . ." she began paging through Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit.She looked at the egg, then back in the book, a perplexed frown stealing over her features.

"Well? Was I right? It's not a Chinese Fireball, is it?" demanded Draco.

"No . . . but the egg doesn't match any other description of a dragon's egg in here either. Wait . . . here's a chapter at the end on very rare breeds that are nearly extinct." She turned to the back of the book. "It says here that there once was a very rare species in Great Britain and Wales called the Pendragon species. It says that they were hunted nearly to extinction during the time of King Arthur and afterwards because bold knights wanted to slay dragons to prove their courage. And they bred but rarely, always raising their young in secluded lonely mountain tops. The inspiration for Muggle fantasy author J.R.R. Tolkien's dragon Smaug in The Hobbitwas based upon the various descriptions and paintings of early medieval artists who used the Pendragon breed as their models."

"That's really cool! What else does it say?" asked Harry.

"Well, it says that the Pendragon kind are the most intelligent of all dragon species. Sometimes they can learn human tongues if they live long enough and can even be bargained with. They prefer, however, to avoid all contact with wizards, if possible, and be left alone. They can grow to great height and length, though no one had ever captured one. The biggest Pendragon on record was the size of a castle! They are generally a deep crimson with golden underbellies, long sail-like wings and sometimes have flame patterns upon their hides. They have been known to spit fireballs and collect treasure. They eat gold to keep their scales hard and shiny, but also enjoy venison and mutton. Their claws are venomous and that's how they bring down prey. There has never been a Pendragon baby raised in captivity. See also the legend of Merlin for more on how the Pendragon came to be."

"The legend of Merlin? What's that mean?" Ron wondered.

"Search me. I was never much good at remembrin' stories," Hagrid admitted, scratching his head.

"It could tell us more in this book," Harry said. He pulled out Dragon Lore: Legends and Facts. After he found the section on Merlin, he read aloud, "And so it came to pass that young Merlin went to work for King Vortigern of the Saxons. Vortigern hired him to figure out a problem he had been having. He was trying to build a tower onto his keep, but every time the tower reached a certain height, it crumbled and fell. The stone and mortar was first rate and so were the masons. It was a mystery no one could solve. Except Merlin. Merlin had a vision, and told Vortigern to have his workers excavate beneath the tower and there they would find the cause of the collapse. So Vortigern did, and found a deep cave with water in which two young dragons, white and red, were fighting.

"As they watched, the red dragon slew the white one, and Merlin knew it was an omen. Vortigern's symbol was a white dragon, and the symbol of his foe, Uther Pendragon was the red dragon. The next month Vortigern met Uther's forces in battle, and was defeated, just as the red dragon defeated the white. Uther allowed the red dragon to live, and ever after those descended from it were called Pendragons. Merlin eventually became court wizard to Arthur, the greates wizard in all of Britain."

Ron whistled. "I had forgotten about that story. So this is Merlin's dragon, the greatest dragon in all of Britain."

"And Harry found it," Neville said proudly.

"Harry might have found it, but we're all going to raise it," Draco stated firmly.

"One o' the rarest species, how about that? That's something, that is. How much longer before it hatches, Hermione?" asked Hagrid.

Hermione read through the section on Pendragons again. "It says that if the egg has the characteristic swirls of flame surrounding it that it only has a week or so more before hatching, as the flames are a sign of maturity. A young Pendragon doesn't have the flame pattern on its scales until it's fully grown. It takes fifty years for it to be fully grown."

"Fifty years!" Ron exclaimed in dismay. "We'll all be old geezers by then! Except you, Hermione. You'll be an old hag."

"Hey!" Hermione glared at him. "Don't call me a hag."

"It's just a name."

"Well, I don't like it."

"At least by then we'll be able to hide it better, as we'll all be out of school," Draco mused.

"I'll be sure an' tell yeh when it's close t'hatching." Hagrid said. "Hermione, can yeh leave me one o' yer books?"

"Sure. You can have them all. They're due back in three weeks." She promptly put the books on Hagrid's table. "I can't wait to see the baby when it's born. What are baby dragons called, do you know?"

Ron shook his head. "No, I never asked Charlie that question."

"They're called dragonets," Draco said authoritatively.

"Dragonets. I like that," Harry said. "Thanks, Hagrid."

"Aw, 'twas nothing, lad." Hagrid blushed. "But yer better never let Professor Snape find out. He'd be mighty angry t'know yeh've been keepin' a baby dragon in secret."

"So would Professor McGonagall," Neville shivered.

Harry quietly vowed that Severus would never find out, though he hated going behind his guardian's back like that. But what other choice did he have?

"Don't forget to turn the egg every twelve hours," Hermione reminded Hagrid, just before they all left to have supper in the hall.

That night, Severus read Harry the story of Kotek, the White Seal, and he had a strange dream about knights with bloody clubs hunting down the baby Pendragon, until he swooped down on his broom and rescued it and hid it on an island far away, where men never came. Since it wasn't a real nightmare and hadn't scared him out of his wits, he didn't bother telling Severus or Skull about it.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Over the next two weeks, all of the young dragon keepers walked down the path to Hagrid's hut every day, sometimes in pairs, other times alone. They tried to visit at different times, so no one would see a pattern and grow suspicious. Each time, it was the same. The egg was still in the fire, and Hagrid turned it every twelve hours. It was hardening nicely, though Hagrid's hut now felt like a million degrees due to the fire constantly burning on the hearth. Luckily Hagrid didn't mind.

Finally their patience was rewarded. Hagrid sent a note with Draco's eagle owl, Frost Reaver, that contained only two words. It's hatching.He folded the note into an Inter Office Memo, which looked like a paper airplane, and sent it on over to the Gryffindor table when no one was looking.

Harry intercepted it with blinding speed, then read the note. He pumped his fist in the air.

"What are you doing, Potter?" asked Wood curiously.

"Uh . . exercises," Harry improvised. "To make my arms stronger." He quickly tucked the note in his fist and passed it to Ron under the table.

Ron read it and he almost choked on his scrambled eggs. He handed the note to Hermione and she smiled quietly and passed it to Neville, who cried, "Oh, Merlin!" Then he blushed and muttered, "I stubbed my toe."

Ron was all for skipping Herbology and racing down to the hut right then, but Harry, Hermione, and Neville dissuaded him.

"I won't skip class, we'll get in terrible trouble and not be able to see Hagrid at all," argued Hermione.

"And I love Herbology, it's my favorite class," Neville objected.

"If I ever skipped class, Uncle Severus would skin the hide off me," Harry predicted.

"Come on, how many times in our lives will we get to see a dragon hatching?" Ron protested.

"Never, if you don't lower your voice, Weasley," Draco hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

Reluctantly, Ron gave in, and went to Herbology with the rest of them. After their lesson, they had a morning break, and they all rushed down to Hagrid's.

Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited. "Hurry! It's almost out."

The egg was no longer in the fire, but lying upon a bed of straw on the table. It was rocking back and forth violently and a sharp tapping sound came from it. Huge cracks spiderwebbed the shell.

Everyone drew chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath as the egg almost flipped over. Suddenly there was a loud scraping noise and the egg split open.

The dragonet tumbled out onto the table, its wings wet from the egg fluids. It was a rusty red color and its underbelly and chest was a pale gold. It had small gold nubs on its head that would later grow into golden horns, and a long narrow snout with a tiny golden tooth on the end—an egg tooth that would later fall off as the dragon didn't need it once it had broken through the egg. It had small ridges along its back and neck and needle-sharp claws that were blunted by a strong clear membrane, so it could not inadvertently scratch itself and poison itself. The venom sacs in its claws weren't at full potency, but even so a scratch could make a person very ill. And the Pendragon young were not immune to their own venom, such only came later. It was about the size of a five-month-old collie puppy.

The dragonet slowly uncurled itself from its ball, its tail waving wildly, and large amber eyes staring round curiously. It opened its mouth and gave a sharp cry, and then burped. A tiny gout of flame shot out.

"Uh oh! It breathes fire already?" Hermione cried.

"Only a little. They don't do more than that for a long while yet," Hagrid reassured her. "Isn't he beautiful?"

"Hagrid, he's a she," Harry corrected. "My book said you can tell female from male by the frills on either side of the head—a female has them and a male doesn't. The dragonet does," He pointed to two crumpled leathery looking things on either side of the baby's head.

"Aww, it's a baby girl! How sweet!" Hermione crooned, gazing at the dragonet with misty eyes.

The dragonet lifted her eyes to Hermione and gave a soft cry. "Meep! Meep!"

"I'd say she's hungry," Draco said. "Where's her food, Hagrid?"

Hagrid indicated the steaming pail of chicken's blood and brandy beside the hearth. Draco got a ladle from Hagrid's cooking pot, where some kind of stew was simmering, and scooped some of the dragonet formula into a bowl.

He brought it to the table and set it in front of the baby dragon. "Here, little thing. Supper!"

The dragonet meeped again, the n stuck her head into the bowl, slurping greedily. In a matter of minutes she had finished the bowl, burped, and looked for more. Draco obligingly got her another bowl, and then another.

"How much can she eat?" Ron wondered. The dragonet's belly was starting to look like a bowling ball.

"Looks like as much as you, Ron,' Neville snickered. "Maybe we ought to call her Greedy Guts?"

The dragonet consumed a fourth bowl while they all discussed what to name her.

"How about Fiery Queen?" suggested Ron. "Her scales look like fire and she's like a queen of dragons."

"Not bad, but . . . what about something more . . . regal sounding?" Draco looked thoughtful. "Like Aurae Regina?"

"Huh? What's that mean in English?" asked Ron.

"Golden Queen," replied Harry.

Draco looked impressed. "Where'd you learn Latin, Potter?"

"Uncle Severus' been teaching me some on the weekends. He said it's important to know Latin in order to cast spells correctly." Harry replied. He reached out a hand cautiously to scratch the baby dragon behind the horn nubs.

The little dragon made soft contented noise and leaned into his hand. Draco and Ron's names for her weren't bad, but Harry felt they lacked a certain sense of historical significance. "What about calling her Guinevere, after King Arthur's wife? Or Nimue, after Merlin's apprentice?"

"That's a good idea, Harry, but Guinevere betrayed Arthur in some of the legends, and so did Nimue," Hermione reminded him. "We don't really want that kind of reputation for her, now do we? What about Viviane? She was the Lady of the Lake, an enchantress who forged Excalibur and later gifted it to Arthur along with a magical scabbard that healed all wounds. We could call her Viv for short."

"Viv." Ron said, trying it out. "Sounds good to me."

"Yes, that's a name fit for a queen," agreed Draco.

"It sounds pretty and regal," Neville nodded.

"What do you think, pretty girl?" asked Harry. "Do you like being called Viviane?"

The dragonet raised her head and looked at him. Then she hiccupped.

Everyone giggled at the comical expression on the dragonet's face.

Then she waddled over to Harry and swiped his cheek with her long green tongue.

"Ugh! Dragon breath!" Harry grimaced. Hagrid handed him a cloth to wipe his face. "I guess she agrees. Viviane it is."

The dragonet abruptly sat down, groomed her front feet with her tongue, which had tiny little barbs like a cat's tongue, then walked over to the fragments of her shell, pawed them off the straw, and curled up in it, wrapping her tail about her snout. Within moments, she was snoring softly.

"Rock-a-bye baby!" hummed Hermione, and stroked the soft hide. "Poor thing's all tired out."

"Well, sure. It's tough being born," Neville said.

"Her scales are soft like butter," Hermione observed.

"They'll harden as she grows older," predicted Hagrid. "Till then I'll need to oil them to keep 'em soft and prevent 'em from cracking."

"She's the most incredible dragonet ever!" Ron stated proudly.

"And she's all ours," said Harry.

All five children looked at one another, bound by the common interests of adoration, pride, and a secret shared.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

By the time a week had passed, Viviane had nearly doubled in length and weight. She was drinking a full bucket of dragon formula every day and had begun to stay up longer than a few hours. She followed Hagrid about like a puppy, making odd little meeping and half-growling noises. Smoke was trickling from her nostrils and she regularly left holes in the wall of the hut, because she and Fang played tag across the kitchen and Viv tended to trip over her wings, which dragged on the floor, or her tail, and crash land into the wall. Her claws left scratches all over the floor as well.

Once she got a claw caught in her wing membrane and tore it. She screamed so loud that some students thought there was a banshee in the castle. Hagrid sent Draco a note asking for some of Snape's Dittany Salve using a school owl. Not long after, Draco came knocking on the door of Severus' quarters. Luckily Harry was there and Severus was not, having gone to visit Irma at St. Mungos. Harry quickly retrieved the jar and followed Draco down to the hut, where the three performed minor surgery on the dragonet.

Hagrid had gotten the dragonet very drunk on Firkin's Firewhiskey. Hagrid held her still, the torn wing outstretched on the table, while Draco smeared the membrane with a bit of ointment. Then Harry picked up a sharp steel needle and some fine cotton thread, Hagrid did most of his own mending, and sewed the tear together. Viv was so drunk she barely felt it, and then Harry rubbed on more Dittany Salve and bound the wing with strips of linen so she couldn't damage it while it healed.

Viv slept all the next day, then woke her usual rambunctious curious self.

They soon discovered that the baby Pendragon was very smart and into everything. Hagrid couldn't leave her alone for a moment. She tore apart his socks and boots, ate the legs off his kitchen table, and dug a hole in his mattress.

Draco was appalled. "Hagrid, you can't let her get away with that! She needs to be taught manners."

"Aw, she's a baby. She don' know any better," Hagrid said with a sheepish grin. " 'Sides, I needed some new furniture."

"That's not the point. If you don't teach her now, she'll be a menace." He jerked his shoe away from Viv's questing nose. "No! Bad dragon!" He shook his finger at her. "No chewing shoes!"

Viviane looked up at him. "Meep?"

"That's right. No shoes! Shoes . . . bad!" Draco picked up a rubber chicken and handed it to her. "Toys . . . good!" He patted her.

Viv shook the toy chicken, growling. Then she dropped it to pounce on Fang. "Meep!"

Fang barked and bolted across the room, Viv in hot pursuit. The whole hut shook as the dragonet chased the boarhound.

Draco gulped in alarm. "Hagrid, what if somebody hears her?"

"Ah, well, I tol' Professor Sprout n'Dumbledore I was teachin' Fang to fetch and I'm clumsy sometimes, t jus' ignore any loud bangs."

Draco eyed Viv uneasily. "How much more is she going to grow? You're running out of room in here."

Hagrid shrugged. "I dunno. Guess we'll find out."

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Two weeks later, Viviane was the half the size of Fang, almost, and eating a gallon of formula a day. Her wing had healed and she was starting to try and flap them.

Hermione asked, "Will she try and fly soon?"

"Naw. They gotta be taught that by their mama," Hagrid said.

"But Hagrid, we're like her mama," objected Neville.

"Then I guess it's up to Harry and Draco to teach her how to fly once she's big enough," Hermione pointed out. "It's a good thing we have brooms."

Hermione discovered that Viv was very smart, she learned faster than a German shepherd, and Hermione had taught her several commands, such as, "Come, stay, go to sleep, up, and no biting!"

The dragonet loved being oiled and Hermione was usually around to assist Hagrid, she had bought a large bottle of rosewood oil and took great pride in rubbing Viv's scales till they shone glittering gold and bright crimson. The dragonet had already shed her scales twice since hatching, and Hagrid saved them in a jar, for dragon scales were valuable potion ingredient, and he needed more money to feed Viviane, since she ate like ten horses.

By the third week, Viviane was eating more solid food. Hagrid fed her a mash of chicken blood, brandy, and ground venison. The dragonet would gorge herself until sated, then fall over in a heap on the floor. Fang often slept beside her, and Neville enjoyed giving her tummy a rub. Viv loved that, and would make crooning noises while he scratched her belly, her wings flopped to either side like a drunken angel's.

She was naturally a clean animal, and Harry and his friends helped to housebreak her. But soon Viv grew bold enough to explore the backyard, and one evening she ran away, and spent hours eluding Hagrid, Fang, and the team of young keepers. When they finally caught her, Harry and Draco scolded her sternly and put an iron collar and chain on her, fastening it to a ring inside the hut.

Viv screeched and fought the restraint, furious. Jets of flame spat from her mouth, nearly setting the floor on fire.

Ron stared at her and whispered, "She can't keep doing this. Someone's gonna see her and then what? We have to . . . bring her somewhere she has room to grown and run about."

"She can't stay locked up here forever," Hermione agreed sadly. "She's miserable, and soon she'll outgrow the collar and chain and pull the walls of the hut down around your ears, Hagrid."

"But we can't just abandon her, Hermione!" protested Harry. "She's too little to put in the forest. She'll die."

"She can't hunt for herself yet," Draco pointed out. "She's still dependant on us. She's our responsibility, how can we just give her up? I won't do it."

"Me neither," agreed Neville. "We'll just have to figure out a way for her to get some exercise at night."

But though they tried, it was fast becoming apparent that Viviane would soon outgrow her home and they had no safe place to put her where she wouldn't be prey for bigger magical creatures or be seen by those at Hogwarts. The night she tore the chain out of the wall and busted through Hagrid's front door was the last straw.

It took all five of them to catch her and repair the hole in the wall and Hagrid's door before curfew, and they all sported teeth marks and strained muscles before they were done.

In contrast, the dragonet regarded it as a fun game, and looked fresh as a daisy when they finally coaxed her back into the hut with a deer carcass to gnaw on.

The next morning Justin Finch Fletchley startled them all by announcing he had seen a strange beast roaming about near Hagrid's hut, and Dumbledore said he would ask Hagrid to make sure it was gone before allowing any students near his home.

"That does it!" Ron hissed to Harry and Neville. "She has to go. We can't control her anymore, and sooner or later someone other than that dolt Justin's going to see her for what she is and there goes Hagrid."

"But where can she go where she'll be safe?" Harry grumbled irritably. "We can't just dump her somewhere like a stray dog, Ron!" His heart was aching at the thought of losing the dragonet, for when she wasn't being destructive, Viv could be very sweet and funny. Harry loved her and didn't want to let her go.

Neither did Draco, but he too could see the wisdom in Ron's decision. Still, he wanted to try some Concealment Charms first.

That was when they discovered that Pendragons were magic resistant. Ron finally managed to convince Draco to let him contact Charlie in Romania. Harry fought to the bitter end, but gave in when Skull flew over the hut one afternoon and asked why there was so much smoke coming from the chimney and what sort of creature did Hagrid keep inside there.

Harry knew that Skullduggery would soon discover the truth, for there was nothing like a raven for ferreting out secrets. Reluctantly, he agreed to let Ron write Charlie.

Charlie sent a reply back a few days later, asking that they meet his friends at the top of the Astronomy Tower at midnight. His friends would take the rare dragonet with them and raise it on the reserve, she would be like a dragon celebrity and receive the best of care. The pick-up was scheduled for the following night, when there would be a full moon.

Hermione wept as she oiled the dragonet for the last time, and Viv made sad meeping noises and licked the tears from her cheeks. "I'll miss you, baby. So much. But you have to go, so you'll grow up safe. I'll never forget you!" She kissed Viv atop her scaly head, inbetween her nubs of horns.

Hagrid too shed tears when it came time for Viviane to leave, he fed her his special lamb stew with Firkin's and gave the dragonet her favorite stuffed boar to chew on, as well as his old leather boot. She had never managed to stop chewing on boots. He wrapped her in a large baby sling, and all four boys took turns carrying her in it. They all would miss Viv dreadfully, but tried not to let it show.

Fang howled mournfully when they left, which made Viv wail rather like a baby.

"Shhh!" Draco clamped a hand over her snout. "Quiet!"

"Draco, you're hurting her," cried Neville, as Viv made little muffled yelps.

"Longbottom, if she gives us away, we're finished. My Notice Me Not charm won't hold up with her sobbing like a baby."

Harry suddenly wished for his invisibility cloak. But Severus had locked it away and Harry knew he'd be in deep trouble if he ever took back the cloak and used it to sneak out of bed, which was just the sort of thing Severus had forbidden him to do with it. No, better that it stayed where it was, Harry didn't want to die before he was seventeen.

They crept soundlessly up the stairs to the top of the Astronomy Tower, leaving Hermione at the bottom to be the lookout. She said she couldn't bear to see Viv taken away, even if it was for the best. So Neville, Draco, Harry, and Ron waited atop the Astronomy Tower for Charlie's friends to appear.

Minutes crept by. Ron checked his watch.

"Do you think they forgot the time?" whispered Harry.

"No. How could they?"

"Because they're late. It's ten past midnight," Draco muttered.

They waited and waited. Viv grew restless and gnawed on her boot, then grew bored and gnawed on Ron's knuckle.

"Oww!" he yelped. "Stupid dragon! Here, Nev, you take her." he handed the sling wrapped dragonet to Neville, then sucked on his bleeding hand.

Still no sign of the dragon keepers.

Draco peered across the sky, the moon was bright so he could see clearly. "Hey, Weasley, I think I see them. Look! See that big shadow coming towards us?"

Harry squinted, even with his eyesight he could see the dragon-shaped shadow approaching. "That's odd. What were they supposed to show up in again?"

"Some kind of chariot, I think," answered Ron.

"A dragon shaped one?" guessed Draco. "That was clever of them."

Ron peered hard at the huge shadow cruising towards them. "Err . . . Malfoy, I don't think that's a chariot. It looks more like a . . .dragon!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley. No dragon could be that big, and they wouldn't risk riding one here tonight. They're trying to keep a low profile."

"Oh, yeah? Then what do you call that?" Ron screamed.

Suddenly a humungous shape swooped down upon them from the sky.

It wasn't just a dragon, but a giant enraged Pendragon female.

Viv's mother had finally found her stolen baby and come to get her back from the thieves who had taken her away.

She descended upon the four petrified boys like a hurricane, her wings churning up great clouds of dust, her head was the size of Hagrid's entire hut, and she roared in rage upon seeing her baby in the hands of humans. There was a great distrust of humans by Pendragons, considering the harm human knights had done to them in the past. The great mother dragon had been searching for her missing egg for weeks, and had finally tracked the thief, or thieves, to Hogwarts. Now she could be reunited with her baby . . . after she punished those who had stolen her precious dragonet.

Harry backed away, screaming in terror. The mama Pendragon was even bigger than he thought, the size of a jet, and her scales were brilliant crimson and gold, with fiery swirls about her haunches and sides that glistened in the pale moonlight. Her green eyes were the size of flying saucers and her teeth were like swords, bared and ready to tear him to shreds.

Oh, shit! Severus, help!He thought frantically, while backing away.

Ron was screaming, "Merlin's bloody arse! Run!"

Draco was staring at the huge dragon, mesmerized. "So beautiful . . . and so deadly."

"Malfoy, move your arse!" Ron shrieked. "Before she eats you!"

Neville screamed as Viv dug her talons into his thigh as she sprang forward, lurching out of the sling. She was howling loudly as she caught sight of her mother. "No! Come back!" Neville cried, grabbing the struggling dragonet by the tail and pulling her backwards. He had to throw himself on the baby dragon to keep her from running off the edge of the tower.

Viv fought, scrabbling her claws on the stone and wailing, trying to flap her wings. She nipped Neville's fingers, which were clutching her about the neck.

"Ahh!" Neville yelled, but refused to let go.

Mama Pendragon let out another terrible roar and her head dove down towards Draco, fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

Harry tackled the other boy, sending them skidding across the top of the tower.

The mother dragon's teeth cracked the stone where Draco had stood moments before, ripping out several chunks. The stone crumbled under the assault and fell over forty feet to land on the ground.

Ron was shaking and crying. "I don't wanna die! Harry, what do we do?"

Harry sprang to his feet, his mind working frantically. He was terrified too, of all the possible outcomes of this night, he never would have expected this. He kept wishing that Severus or Skull was there, for they would know how to handle the enraged mother dragon.

"Ron, get to the stairs! We need help!"

The mama dragon was now hovering in the air, above the tower, her eyes glittering, her wings blotting out the stars.

Harry had his wand out, and was casting a Summoning Charm.

Behind him, Draco was praying.

Neville had almost squashed Viv flat, and the dragonet was squeaking indignantly.

A black streak darted in, and Skullduggery screeched, "Yo, Mama! Leave those kids alone!"

The Pendragon female turned her gaze to the annoying ball of feathers and gave a low rumble of warning.

Skullduggery puffed up his feathers, his head crest rising. "I don't know who stole your baby, Mama, but you aren't going to kill anybody on my watch."

"Skull! Get Uncle Severus!" Harry yelled.

"On my way, bran-boy! Get off the tower! Leave the damn baby and run!"

The raven made several darting sorties at the great dragon's eyes, making the behemoth lower her head and fly a little bit away from the tower, for the raven's beak was super sharp and could hurt very badly if it landed a blow in her eyes. Skullduggery dodged her return snap, flying around her and through the stairway, a midnight streak heading to the dungeons to fetch Snape.

Hermione, shivering in the stairwell, saw Skull speed past and yelled, "Skull, what's going on up there?"

"Trouble!" the raven cawed, and kept right on flying.

Hermione looked back up the stairs, biting her lip. She was trying to make up her mind whether or not to go and help her friends when a claw-like hand closed over her shoulder.

"Trouble indeed, missy!" cackled Filch. "And you're out of bed!"

"Please, sir!" Hermione cried, terrified both for her friends and because she was sure to get detention now.

"Come along, girl. You're going straight to McGonagall's office and we'll see what she has to say about you wandering about in the dead of night!" He began to drag Hermione away.

"Please, Mr. Filch! You can't leave, my friends are in terrible danger . . ."

"Oh, they're gonna be in danger all right, when McGonagall gets through with them," Filch sneered, and ignored Hermione's protests and hauled her off down the corridor.

The tower shook as Mama Pendragon stamped her huge foot atop the stone crenellations, crumbling them into dust. She was determined to make the thieves pay for their audacity and no annoying raven was going to convince her otherwise.

Harry's broom smacked into his palm, and he mounted it faster than he ever had before. Using every bit of speed the Nimbus possessed, he shot into the sky, hovering just in front of the mother dragon's eyes, above the gaping snout with the sword-like teeth and five foot long purple tongue. He didn't understand why she hadn't breathed on them yet, for surely she was furious enough to do so.

Then he looked down at his friends and the struggling Neville atop the tower and realized that she had held back her flame so as not to injure her baby. And then Harry knew that they had to hang on to Viviane at all costs. "Keep hold of her, Nev!" he called to his friend, then he slingshot about Mama's head, whooping like Mowgli.

"Is he CRAZY?"Ron cried.

"He's a Gryffindor, what do you expect?" Draco answered, picking himself up and backing away. "You're all insane!"

"What the bloody hell is he doing?"Ron gasped as Harry made several strafing runs at the great dragon, trying to draw the beast away from the tower.

"Committing suicide?" Draco snarled. "Do I look like a Seer, Weasley?"

Mama dragon swung her head about, missing Harry's Nimbus by mere inches. She roared in frustration.

Harry fired off a Stinging Hex and it landed in her nostrils causing her to shake her head irritably. Then he soared across the sky, taunting her.

She spun and went after him.

"The bloody idiot! He's going to get killed!" Draco swore.

"We have to help him," Ron panted.

"You're seven kinds of a retard, Weasley, you know that?" the Slytherin snarled. Then he added, "And so am I." He waved his wand and Summoned his own broom.

Ron did also, and then the two were airborne and streaking towards the red dragon. "I must be losing my mind! I don't know how to fight a dragon!"

"Just play Quidditch, Weasley," Draco yelled, and shot some fiery projectiles at the Pendragon. They fizzled and bounced off of her hide, but annoyed her so she quit chasing Harry and brought her head about to snap at him instead.

"Play Quidditch? Has he gone round the bend?" Ron moaned. "I feel like a pesky fly and she's the fly swatter. Oh, Merlin! Where the hell are you, Charlie?" He brought his broom up in a tight turn.

Draco pulled up sharply, avoiding the chomping fangs by a millimeter. "Weasley! A distraction would be good right now!" he cut to the right, and was nearly blown off his broom by the sweep of one great wing.

Ron arced up inbetween the huge forefeet, each talon glistening with green fluid. A distraction? Ron could hardly think straight.

"Booga! Booga! Booga!" He yelled as loud as he could, then he cast a Sneezing Hex at the dragon, it being the only hex he could recall from Defense lessons with Snape.

For an instant nothing happened.

Then Mama's nose began to twitch.

She inhaled, huffing and gasping, shaking her head frantically.

Ron backed up, trying to get out of the way.

But he wasn't quite fast enough.

Mama sneezed, and the resultant blast of air mixed with green snot cascaded over Ron, sending him head over heels, five feet backwards to crash into the top of the tower.

Ron landed spread-eagled on the ground, almost hitting Neville. He groaned and lay still for a long moment.

"Ron? Are you . . . dead?" Neville sniffled.

"Yuck! Dragon bogies!" Ron sat up, gazing at himself in dismay, for he was covered in noxious green slime as well as being bruised and scraped. "Why me?"

Meanwhile, students were crying and screaming in a panic in Ravenclaw Tower and Gryffindor Tower, as they could feel the awful aftershocks of the battle atop the tower. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Dumbledore had their hands full trying to stave off a panic, and so Filch was largely ignored when he dragged Hermione in through the portrait hole.

Skullduggery was flying like a bat out of hell, and in his wake came the Potions Master, wand out and running like the Grim Reaper up the stairs to the seventh floor and then to the Astronomy Tower, cursing Dumbledore's Anti-Apparition wards with each footfall.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Harry flew right into the red dragon's face, throwing a handful of crumbled biscuit crumbs into her eyes, they were what he had in his pocket when he reached in to try and find something that might help him avoid becoming dragon chow. Biscuit crumbs weren't much of a weapon, but they were all he had.

Mama shook her head, trying to get the grit out her eyes.

"Here, you great lump of lard!" taunted Harry. "Come and get me you dumb piece of crap! Dragons are superior to wizards my ass!"

He then turned and accelerated, flying in a great loop across the grounds.

Mama snarled and turned, seeking her tormentor.

Then she felt something sting her flank as Draco tried to use a Bone Break Curse on her. But the spell was absorbed by her innate magic resistance, which recognized it as a threat. As she turned, her tail lashed out, striking Draco's broom with the tip.

Draco found himself tumbling across the sky, his broom flipping end over end uncontrollably.

Harry saw Draco falling and his heart leaped into his throat. Without stopping to think, he shot diagonally across the sky, passing by the dragon in a blur, diving as fast as he could.

He managed, through sheer nerve and inborn skill, to pull up just beneath the Slytherin, catching the back of Draco's robe and part of his arm as he fell.

The recoil nearly yanked him off his broom. But he managed to speak the one word of a Featherlight Charm before losing his grip on the other boy, touching Draco with his wand tip as he did so.

Draco drifted through the air, screaming, before Harry maneuvered his broom beneath him and caught him. "Potter, flaming hells!"

"Relax, Draco. I've got you," Harry said, grabbing Draco and pulling him onto the Nimbus. "You're easier to catch than the Snitch."

"Potter, you're insane!" Draco gasped. "But you just saved my life, so I'll forgive you. Where the hell did you learn to fly like that?"

"I just did what came naturally, Malfoy. That's why I'm the youngest Seeker in a century," Harry replied with a touch of insolence. Actually his heart was pounding just as much as Malfoy's.

"Uh oh, she's coming about for another pass," Draco muttered.

"You all right?" Harry panted.

"Yeah, I just have whiplash from her tail," answered the Slytherin. "And my nose is bleeding. I think I hit it on my broom." He held the sleeve of his robe to it.

"Great! Look, I'm going to try and set you back on the tower as quick as I can. You get Ron and Neville and tell them to get their arses out of here."

"What about you?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't worry about me." He soared up towards the Astronomy Tower, trying to get there before the red dragon. "It's a good day to die."

He grabbed Draco by the back of his robe and set him on the tower then streaked off.

"Bloody mad Gryffindor! No wonder the good die young!" Draco shook his head, then staggered towards the stairwell, just as Skullduggery emerged from it, followed by Severus.

Severus took everything in at a glance, his battle-honed reflexes notcing everything, including the apparent death wish his ward had, playing cat and mouse with an enraged red dragon out of legend. In a flash he had grabbed Neville by the back of his collar, pulling him off the shrieking dragonet. "Longbottom! Get inside, hurry! You too, Weasley! Get to the bottom of the stairs and wait for me. Move!"

Neville, scratched and bleeding, obeyed without argument. He didn't know what he was more afraid of—the dragon or his potions professor.

Ron obeyed as well, though he did yell, "Professor, you have to help Harry!" before he went down the stairs.

"Tell me something I don't know, Weasley," the other scowled. "Malfoy! What are you waiting for, a personal invitation in gold script. Follow them and wait for me!"

Draco too ran as fast as he could across the tower, wishing he could see the outcome of the fight.

Viv scurried across the stones, crying pitifully for the mother she hardly remembered. Severus reached out and grabbed the trailing end of the sling, and hauled her back from throwing herself off the tower. "No, you don't! You're staying right here." he wrestled the dragonet back by brute force, grunting with the effort. "Stay, dammit!" Viv obeyed, crouching down by his boots, whimpering. "Skullduggery, it's time to open negotiations! Tell her I'll call a truce if she stops trying to roast Harry."

For the mama Pendragon was now breathing fire, in bright balls of fire, that scorched across Harry's path, forcing him to climb rapidly, his hands seared by the fire's radiating heat, though he dodged the full force of the flame.

"Oi, Mrs. Hot and Toasty!" Skullduggery cried in Ravenspeak. "My master has your baby, and wants to cut a deal with you. Are you willing to listen, or do you want your darling to become potion ingredients?"

The dragon halted, and snarled, "What are you yammering on about, you black crow?"

"That's raven, Fire Queen! We'll trade you—your dragonet, unharmed, for my wizard's crazy ward. He's rather fond of the lad and wants him back without being barbecued."

"He stole my egg!"

"What do you care, as long as you get your baby back?"

"He deserves to be punished!" snarled the dragon.

"Don't worry, Big Mama. Sev's going to light a fire under his ass, sure enough. Leave the punishment to him, he's the best at it in the school." Skullduggery persuaded. "Besides, your baby doesn't look any worse for wear to me. And that's the important thing, right?"

The dragon was silent for a long moment. Finally she tossed her massive head and sighed. "Oh, very well. Take the pesky little gnat and beat some manners into him."

"Do you swear not to take revenge on him or his friends, O Mistress of Fire and Poison?"

"Yes, I so swear! Now give me my dragonet."

"Sev! Let her go, Red's agreed to the terms!" Skull cawed. "Harry! Get off your broom and onto the tower, double quick!"

Harry did as he was told, he couldn't understand the dragon's replies to Skull, but guessed enough that the raven had called a truce.

As his ward landed atop the tower, Severus released Viviane.

The dragonet ran across the floor, meeping hysterically, and was swept up in one large forefoot. Mama nuzzled her baby lovingly, reunited at last with her daughter. She bowed her head respectfully to Severus and glared warningly at Harry before turning and flying away, Viv cradled close to her chest.

Harry watched until the red dragon was out of sight, muttering a thank you to whatever guardian angel had been watching over him. Then he turned slowly, met the furious gaze of Severus Snape, and prayed he survived the Potion Master's wrath. He thought he might have had better luck with the dragon.

Severus felt an enormous migraine coming on as he gazed furiously at his wayward ward, who seemed determined to drive him to insanity with his recklessness and disobedience. He carefully pinched the bridge of his nose and began to recite several potion recipes in his head, struggling to control his hair-trigger temper. Never had he felt so close to the edge of his control, so prone to lashing out at the messy-haired young daredevil who stood before him, giving him a rather lopsided guilty half-smile. Severus was torn between grabbing Harry and squeezing him to death and grabbing him and tanning his backside. That he did neither was a testament to his hard-won control over his emotions. Instead, he allowed his stance and the volcanic expression in his eyes to speak for his current emotional state.

Harry flinched. "Umm . . . sir? I . . . I . . .err . . ."

"Mr. Potter," began the Potions Master, in a very tightly controlled voice. "I would suggest that you close your mouth and join your classmates at the bottom of the staircase at once. You are in violation of several school rules, not to mention my own personal rules as well. Move!"

Harry shut his mouth with a snap and did as he was told, hurrying past the fuming professor and down the stairs.

Severus billowed after him, still reciting recipes. Skull was perched upon his shoulder, and for once the raven had no cheeky comments to make. Perhaps he sensed how close to the edge his wizard was and figured silence was the better part of valor.

Harry found Ron, Neville, and Draco all waiting at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower, each of them looked very apprehensive and Neville looked close to passing out. Before he could say anything to them, the professor had approached and said frostily, "You will all accompany me to the Headmaster's office."

The boys gulped and exchanged horrified glances. But they followed the Head of Slytherin without protest.

"Merlin, I think . . . we're gonna be expelled!" Ron moaned very quietly. "My mum's gonna kill me!"

"Quiet!" Severus snapped harshly.

Ron clamped his mouth shut.

Harry wondered where Hermione was, if she had managed to escape Snape's eagle eye. He hoped so. He already felt guilty about involving Neville, Ron, and even Draco in his dragon returning scheme. He was afraid to even think about what might happen to him now. This was even worse than the time he and Malfoy had dueled in the dungeon corridor.

Ron was trying frantically to come up with a plausible reason why they had all been on top of the Astronomy Tower, out of bed, with a baby Pendragon. But he could not manage to come up with any sort of excuse that made the least bit of sense, and his nerves were shot after what had gone on that night. He had come close to being a dragon's chew toy, and the only thing he could think about—besides the wrath of Molly—was that something had happened to Charlie's friends. He hoped they hadn't met up with the mother Pendragon and that had been why they were late arriving.

Draco was trembling inwardly, hoping that the Headmaster took pity on them and didn't put the escapade on their permanent record. He didn't think Dumbledore would expel them, though he did fear that his Head would inform his mother of this latest transgression and this time Narcissa might even tell Lucius. He was almost certain that Severus would, once the Headmaster was through with them, take him into his office for a session with the paddle. He shuddered, not even wanting to think about it, but unable to stop.

Neville was whiter than a sheet and trembling at the mere thought of what the Headmaster, McGonagall, and his Gran Augusta would say or do. He could never recall being in this much trouble before, and prayed that one of the adults was merciful. He knew better than to hope that Professor Snape would be, not for something as major as this. The man looked like he wanted to breathe fire like the Pendragon, and at any moment, Neville expected to see rivulets of smoke drift from his nostrils.

Upon reaching the gargoyle statue, Snape hissed the password and they all took the revolving stairs to Dumbledore's office. Once inside, Severus ordered them all to stand in front of the Headmaster's desk.

They all shuffled into line, feeling like prisoners about to get sentenced, and Severus stood behind them with his arms crossed, radiating disapproval. "Skullduggery, will you please find Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, and tell them to meet me here?"

"At once, sir!" croaked the raven, bobbing his head in a gesture of respect before flying off the Potion Master's shoulder and out the partially opened window.

Skullduggery knew he could re-enter the castle through the Owlery window, and so find the two professors that way.

A pregnant silence descended upon the office, broken only by the soft ticking of Dumbledore's ancient wall clock and the snores of some of the former Headmasters' portraits.

Harry fought to keep still, he knew that his guardian was probably wishing he had never laid eyes on him, or agreed to look out for him, and he locked his knees together to keep them from shaking. He feared he wouldn't live to see twelve and wished that the other professors would hurry up and get there already. What was taking them so long?

Several moments of eternity later, the office door opened to admit Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, with Hermione in tow, Skull flying like a harbinger of doom over her head. Dumbledore's ever present twinkle was absent from his eyes and he looked very solemn and sorrowful. McGonagall looked quite angry and stern. Hermione looked scared to death.

Severus raised an eyebrow when he caught sight of Hermione. "You too, Miss Granger?"

"Filch found her at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower and brought her back to Gryffindor Tower just before all hell broke loose," Minerva informed her colleague. "When I questioned her, she admitted to aiding these miscreants." She pointed and said, "You may join your classmates, Granger."

Hermione, her head hanging, walked over to join the others. Harry thought he caught the shimmer of tears on her lashes.

Harry couldn't blame her for crying. He would have shed a few tears too, but he didn't want the others to think he was a crybaby coward or anything.

Once they were all presented, the Headmaster said, with a sigh of disappointment, "It has come to my attention that all of you were out of bed tonight, and all save Hermione risked your lives on top of the Astronomy Tower attempting to fight an enraged mother Pendragon. Would you care to explain how this came about?" Dumbledore turned and looked at Draco. "Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco swallowed hard. "Sir, it's complicated . . ."

"Breaking rules often are," put in Severus sarcastically.

"It was my fault," Harry spoke up, determined to not to let his friends—and despite everything Draco was now his friend—take the blame for him. "I found a dragon egg and decided to . . . keep it."

"You found a Pendragon egg?" Dumbledore repeated. "They are the rarest of species. Where did you find it?"

"Near the Forbidden Forest." Harry murmured.

"It . . . wasn't all Harry's fault," Neville said, his voice squeaking. "We all of us agreed to help him raise it."

"Is that true?" Dumbledore queried, and was met by the other four children nodding.

"How in Merlin's name did you know how to raise a dragon, Potter?" frowned Minerva.

"We . . . we read some books from the library," Hermione explained.

"Naturally," Severus scowled, though ordinarily he would have been proud of his ward's research abilities. "What were you all doing out of bed at midnight atop the Astronomy Tower? Teaching the dragonet how to fly?"

"Uh . . . sort of." Harry hedged. "We . . . we weren't expecting the mama dragon to . . . err . . . find Viv that way."

"Viv?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"That's what we named her, sir. Viviane, after the Lady of the Lake," Ron informed him. "It was Hermione's idea."

"Viviane, that's a good name," The Headmaster chuckled, horrifying his two professors. Both of them glared pointedly at him. "A baby Pendragon, of all things! Oh, well . . . are you all aware that raising a dragon is against Ministry Law?" he attempted to sound stern again, though he didn't quite manage it.

All of them looked down at their feet.

"I know Mr. Malfoy is," Severus said, his voice silky with disapproval. "He's made a study of dragons."

"And you know better as well, Ronald Weasley," McGonagall snapped. "Your older brother Charlie is a dragon tamer. What on earth were all you thinking?"

"That a baby dragon would make a cool pet," Skullduggery replied, sounding like a small child.

"Undoubtedly," growled Severus. "I highly suspect none of you ever thought about what might happen if the mother of your dragonet returned suddenly, now did you?"

"No, sir." Hermione whispered.

"We . . . we thought the mother must be dead," Neville added.

"Killed by poachers, because otherwise the egg wouldn't have just been left there," Draco stated.

"We couldn't just leave it to be eaten by . . . by something," Harry defended.

"Then why did you not contact a teacher, Potter?" demanded Minerva.

"Because . . . we knew you'd never let us keep her," he admitted softly.

"And rightly so! Do you know that you could have died tonight—all of you and not only you, but your classmates in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Tower as well! That dragon could have brought the castle crashing down around our heads!" scolded the Deputy Headmistress sharply.

"You all behaved extremely foolishly . . . like a pack of brainless sheep!" Severus declared furiously. "When the mother dragon came here, why did you not call for help? Why did you attempt to fight her, Misters Potter and Malfoy?"

"It . . . there wasn't time . . ." began Harry lamely.

"She attacked us so fast all we had time to do was Summon our brooms, sir," Draco told his professor.

"It never occurred to you geniuses to leave the baby atop the tower and go back inside?" sneered the Potions Master.

"We weren't sure if the big dragon would hurt Viv," Ron said.

Both McGonagall and Severus shook their heads in disgust.

"So, not only do you harbor an endangered species illegally, you nearly get roasted by a dragon, and are out of bed as well. It is clear to me that you are irresponsible and reckless, not to mention disobedient." Severus continued.

"Are . . . are you going to . . . expel us, sir?" quivered Neville.

Before Severus could open his mouth, Dumbledore said, "Not for this, Neville. However, both Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall will hand out detention and take points for your little . . . adventure."

"How many?" Harry queried.

"Fifty points." Minerva said crisply. "Each."

"Each!" The Gryffindors and Draco wailed.

"In addition to that, all of you shall have detention next week doing what I have yet to decide, and sit in your common room with my dunce cap on your head for an hour. One night for each of you." Minerva continued. "I am shocked and ashamed that you have behaved as you did."

"But . . . but professor . . . what about the House Cup?" wailed Ron.

"What about it, Mr. Weasley?" she asked frostily. "Gryffindor will lose unless a miracle occurs."

All of the Gryffindors looked shocked and felt terribly guilty.

Draco looked pale too, for he knew his Housemates would not be pleased with the loss of fifty points at all.

"Furthermore, you shall all be serving various detentions from me," interjected Severus. He swept them all with a glare that made them cringe. "Longbottom, you shall be serving detention with me tomorrow afternoon at two o'clock, harvesting stinkweed, and Sunday cleaning fire crabs."

"Yes, sir." Neville said, not able to look the professor in the eye.

"Weasley, you shall be scrubbing my classroom floor tomorrow and mulching Professor Sprout's vegetable patch with dragon dung on Sunday."

Ron made a face, then nodded. He knew better than to protest, seeing the state Snape was in.

Severus turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, you shall be banned from the library for the weekend." He ignored Hermione's gasp of dismay. "Perhaps some time away from books will enable you to think about what you should have done upon finding the dragon egg. You shall also come to my classroom at ten o'clock tomorrow morning and on Sunday. You will first write an essay for me on the danger you put yourself and your friends in and what you should have done instead; the next day you shall be cleaning out the cabinet in the back of my classroom."

"Yes, Professor Snape. I'm sorry."

"As you ought to be." Then he turned to Draco and Harry, his scowl even more pronounced. "As for you two, I shall tell you about your detention tomorrow morning. Be in my office at 8 AM, Malfoy, and you, Potter, at 8:30, sharp."

Both boys murmured agreement, unsure if that were a good or bad thing.

"Why, Severus!" exclaimed Minerva. "I've never known you to wait when you issue detention."

"This time, Minerva, I need to think of a suitable punishment for Malfoy and Potter." Her colleague answered grimly. "But rest assured, they will regret their actions as much as the others."

"Next time, children, might I suggest you think before you act?" Dumbledore said. "If you had all been killed, your families would have grieved endlessly. You are dismissed. Go to bed."

McGonagall herded her Gryffindors, all save for Harry, out the door and Severus did the same for Draco and Harry.

They did not speak as they headed down to the dungeons. Malfoy slipped inside the Slytherin portrait hole without even looking up at Harry. He knew he would not sleep at all the rest of the night, imagining Severus informing Narcissa of this latest fiasco. He wasn't sure which was worse, his mother returning to Hogwarts to discipline him or Snape doing so with the paddle in the desk drawer.

Harry remained silent as he walked leadenly towards Snape's quarters. But once they were inside, he could remain silent no longer. "Uncle Severus, please let me explain . . . I didn't mean to . . . break all those rules . . . it's just, one thing led to another and . . ."

"Harry, enough!" Severus spun on him, setting his hands on the boy's shoulders and giving him a brisk shake. "I do not wish to discuss what you have done any longer, I am on my last nerve tonight. Go to bed immediately, no back talk."

"Yes, sir." Harry bit his lip hard and turned away, fighting back tears. He wondered if Severus would ever forgive him.

"Wait."

Harry turned back, a glimmer of hope fluttering in his chest.

"Sit down on the sofa and let me tend your hands." His guardian ordered gruffly.

Harry had quite forgotten about his burned palms until Severus reminded him.

Severus summoned a basin of water, soft cloths, and some burn-healing paste. He thoroughly yet gently cleansed, salved, and wrapped his ward's hands, working in silence. He then insisted Harry drink a pain reliever and go to bed.

Harry obeyed, slowly undressing and changing into pajamas. Skull fluttered into his room and perched upon the bedpost. Harry looked at the raven and whispered, "I'm really sorry, Skull. Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"

"I do not know. What you did was not only stupid and reckless, but scared him—and me—half to death. Sev is as furious as I've ever seen him, and rightly so. You are in serious trouble, bran-boy."

"I know." Harry sighed gustily.

Skullduggery abruptly flew over to the boy and pecked him sharply on the top of the head.

"Ow! Skull, that hurt!" Harry yelped, rubbing his sore head.

"That is what my mother would have done to me if I had behaved so, young one. Tried to knock some sense into your foolish head," the raven croaked. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, boy, sneaking about in the dead of night, lying, and risking your silly little neck. You almost gave me a heart attack!" He gave Harry another peck, though this one wasn't quite as hard.

"All right already! I've learned my lesson, now leave off." Harry groaned. "I'm sorry."

"Are you truly? You shall be even sorrier tomorrow morning, I'd wager." Skull warned.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Sev is watching you from the doorway and if you're not in bed by the time the clock strikes, he'll come in and tie you to the bed," Skull snapped.

Harry quickly climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, and facing the wall. Tomorrow could wait, as far as he was concerned. He heard Skull leave and the door close. Tears welled in his eyes and dripped unnoticed onto his comforter, having both his guardian and Skull angry at him hurt terribly. It took him forever to fall asleep.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Severus methodically went about getting ready for bed, he felt every one of his thirty-two years tonight and then some. He quickly swallowed a Headache Remedy then went and lay down, a cool damp cloth soaked in lavender and cucumber infused water over his eyes. He felt Skull perch lightly upon his chest, heard the raven start crooning one of his familiar lullabies.

"Thank you."

"You look like you need a stiff drink, Sev," the raven cawed.

"If I started drinking now, Skullduggery, I'd never stop," snorted the wizard. "Being drunk, no matter how good it might feel, won't help my situation with Harry. Drunk or sober, he's bound to drive me insane. I still cannot believe that he had the sheer nerve to . . . to challenge a mother dragon like that!" There was reluctant admiration in Severus' tone.

"Me neither! I thought for sure that he was going to end up down her gullet. Spirits of my ancestors!"

"There is no doubt about it, but he has inherited his father's recklessness in full measure . . . as well as his crazy courage. James Potter never really bothered to count the odds. Sometimes that worked in his favor, but other times . . ." Severus shook his head. "When I agreed to the guardianship, I knew it would not be easy, keeping watch over him, but I never expected this! He has enough unknown enemies, must he continue to risk his life on his own as well? When will he ever learn?"

"Perhaps when he's thirty?"

"Humph! Very funny, Skull. Though I'm beginning to suspect you're right. I couldn't trust my temper tonight, Skull. That's why I decided to wait before I punished him. Or Draco. Otherwise I might have done more harm than good."

"That was wise, Sev. Punishments should never be handed out when you're blinded by anger." The raven advised. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

Severus yawned. "I shall." He banished the wet cloth, his headache had subsided. He turned over on his side and closed his eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a day from hell, and he wanted to be well-rested. He was not looking forward to it, detentions and punishment turned his stomach sour, but there had to be consequences, he would be damned if he allowed Harry to just 'get off' the way the Marauders had. At the same time he worried that he might be too harsh with the boy, he did not want to be like Harry's uncle. He tossed and turned all night, wrestling with his dilemma before finally falling asleep around three in the morning.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

8:30 AM, Saturday morning

Snape's office:

Harry waited to be summoned inside the professor's office, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, or so it would have seemed to the casual observer. If you had looked closely, however, you would have seen signs that the boy was wretchedly nervous; he had bitten his nails down to the quick, and chewed his bottom lip to shreds as well. His clothes had been hastily tossed on that morning, his shirt was rumpled and his jeans bore creases in them, one shoelace was untied and he had left his robe in his room, figuring it was a weekend so he didn't need to wear it. His hair looked as if it had never seen a comb and his green eyes were glazed from lack of sleep and dread.

The office door opened and Draco emerged, his eyes puffy and red-rimmed, looking chastened but trying to keep a stiff upper lip, as befitted an aristocrat.

Harry saw right through it. "You okay?"

Draco snorted. "Just brilliant, can't you tell?"

Harry shook his head. "Did he . . . err. . . ?"

"What do you think, Potter?" The Slytherin grimaced.

"I'm sorry." Harry felt compelled to apologize.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Oh, please! Don't get a guilt complex, you idiot Gryffindor. We all knew what we did was forbidden. We knew if we got caught, there'd be hell to pay. We got caught and now we're paying. End of story."

Harry blinked, shocked that Draco was actually taking the blame for his own actions. "Oh. Right. Where are you going?"

"Breakfast. I'll need to eat before I have to start scrubbing the toilets," the other admitted with another grimace. "God, but I hate cleaning things without magic. I feel like a bloody house elf!"

"I know the feeling," Harry murmured. "Think the rest of the school will learn about the point deduction?"

"Probably. They'll see as soon as they leave the hall," Draco said morosely. "I'll be lucky if my Housemates don't drown me." He turned to go, adding over his shoulder, "Better get in there, Potter. If Snape has to come and get you, it'll be worse."

Heaving a sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of his shoes, Harry turned the handle and entered the office. His stomach was now doing flipflops as he faced his guardian.

Severus did not look as menacing as last night, but that wasn't saying too much. Harry swallowd hard and forced himself to look Severus in the eye. He was ashamed and apprehensive, but he refused to cower before the professor. As Draco had said, he had known beforehand that what he did was wrong, and now he'd been caught and there was going to be hell to pay.

"So, Mr. Potter. You thought you'd play animal rescuer and raise a baby dragon," Severus began, his tone sharp with sarcasm. "How very enterprising and noble of you. Did you give any thought at all about what would have happened had your dragonet flamed you? One of your friends? Well? Are you going to play mute or answer me?"

"I . . . I did think of that, sir." Harry spoke softly, his throat gone dry. "But we . . . we figured we could . . . teach her not to. Viv was . . . very smart. She learned things quickly. Hermione taught her all kinds of commands and Draco taught her not to chew things, like Hagrid's boots . . . uh . . ." Too late he realized his blunder. He had now implicated Hagrid in his scheme.

"So Hagrid was involved in this too." Severus stated. "I suspected as much. You wouldn't have been able to hide the beast without help. And Hagrid has often said to me that he wished he could train a dragon."

"We . . . we made him swear to help us, Uncle Severus!" Harry said quickly.

Severus leaned over the desk quick as a snake striking, coming nearly nose to nose with Harry. "Don't make things worse by lying to me, young man!"

"I'm not, sir! I swear by . . . my mum's grave!" Harry stuttered a little. "We all swore an oath on our wizard's honor never to tell anyone about Viv, and we made Hagrid swear too before we showed him the egg."

Severus's eyes bored into his, but Harry did not look away. The Potions Master could tell he wasn't lying. At least not about this. He reseated himself. "So, you freely admit to breaking both Ministry law, the school laws about being out of bed, as well as my own rule about putting yourself in harm's way?"

"Yes, sir."

"What were you really doing atop the Astronomy Tower?"

"We were trying to . . . send Viv away somewhere she'd be able to grow up safe and sound."

"I see. Were you, perhaps, in contact with some dragon tamers?"

"Yes, Uncle Severus. But they never showed up. The mother dragon did."

"She must have been frantically searching for her baby all this time. How long did you have the baby Pendragon?"

"Uh . . . well, it took a week for the egg to hatch and I guess it was about a month or so."

"Hmm. Odd it took that long for her to track you. Unless she was Confunded." Severus mused. Then his expression hardened. "How many times must I tell you . . . never risk your life? First the troll and now this!"

"I just . . . wanted to draw her away from Nev and Ron and Draco."

"Why didn't you simply let the baby go to her?"

"Um . . . she was about to roast us and I thought we could . . . use Viv as insurance."

"Humph! So you elected instead to play chicken." Severus' hands tightened into white-knuckled fists. "Have you any idea what I felt when I saw you atop the Tower, weaving in and out between her claws, dodging her fire? I nearly had heart failure right there!"

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Are you? Then why, in Merlin's name, do you keep repeating the same mistake over and over?" Severus demanded, his voice rising slightly.

"I don't know." Harry mumbled.

"Suppose you think very hard about that today, while you are confined to your room?" Snape said coldly. "To add insult to injury, you lied to me for over a month about what you were doing with your free time. I trusted you to stay out of trouble and instead you were in it up to your damn neck! All this time I thought you were flying with your friends, studying or playing Quidditch, you were going behind my back and hiding an illegal animal. Is that how you keep your word, Harry James Potter? You have broken my trust with your irresponsible behavior and your lies, shown me that you cannot be trusted."

"No!" Harry sniffled. "I can be trusted, Uncle Severus! I just . . . didn't think everything through."

"No, you didn't. All you thought about was what you wanted, never mind it was forbidden!" Severus lectured sternly. "I hope you're happy now, young man! Was it worth it?"

Harry dropped his gaze to hide the burning tears in his eyes. "Not . . . really." He had loved Viv, but was now discovering that losing Severus' trust was a loss that cut him deeply. Then he whispered. "But I really did . . . love her."

Severus hardened his heart at the boy's sincere reply. He was not surprised at Harry's declaration. What boy would not love a baby dragon he had raised from the egg?

"That may be, but it shall not get you out of a well deserved punishment. First, you are restricted to your room for the rest of the morning, until twelve o'clock, when you shall accompany me to the Astronomy Tower, and assist me and Professor Sinistra in repairing what the Pendragon destroyed as best you can. That will take the weekend. Your broom is mine for the rest of the term—you will be given it back only to play in matches. You are now under, as Muggles would put it, house arrest. Skullduggery shall accompany you to and from class and my quarters, you shall be back here directly after supper, permitted to see your friends only during class and for scheduled study periods here. You will go to bed at nine and are forbidden to be in the library unless accompanied by me. Last but not least, for putting yourself in harm's way, you'll be getting a sound spanking, as I promised. I am extremely disappointed in you, Mr. Potter."

Harry felt himself shrivel inside at those words, though he had been expecting them. His eyes widened as Severus' chair scraped across the floor as he pushed it away from the desk. Harry wondered if he were fetching the paddle, before recalling Severus telling him he would only use his hand. But the mere thought of the spanking made him squirm.

"Come here." Severus ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.

Harry obeyed, determined not to cry. He found himself bent over his guardian's lap, held firmly in place.

Severus began counting as he delivered three sharp smacks to the upturned bottom.

Harry's resolve lasted about two seconds then he was crying, more from the awful shame than from actual pain. You've broken my trust. Severus' words cut him like a whip, hurting more than the stinging in his behind. He'll never forgive me! Never!

Severus let the boy cry for a few moments, but when Harry showed no sign of ceasing, just lying there and sobbing, he lifted him up and stood him on his feet. "It's over. Harry, enough."

Harry refused to look him in the eye, instead he stared at the ground and tears splashed on his trainers.

Sighing, Severus drew him against his chest. "Child, it was three swats, not three hundred."

Harry gulped, trying to stem the flood. "M'not crying 'cause of that. Well . . . not only . . ."

"Oh? Then why?"

"'Cause you . . . hate me now and . . . and . . . I'm not . . . worthy to be your . . . ward . . ."

"Excuse me? Where did you ever get that notion?" Severus repeated incredulously. "I never said that!" He lifted the boy's chin and tilted his head up. "Look at me. I do not hate you, Harry James Potter. I am angry and disappointed, yes, but that does not mean I hate you."

"But you won't forgive me," he cried.

"Yes, I will. And I have," Severus told him gently. "You made a grave mistake but once you serve your punishment, we won't discuss it again."

"But you don't trust me anymore." Harry sniffled, dropping his eyes.

"No. You will have to earn my trust back. And that will take time." Severus said firmly. He tilted the boy's head back up. "Even so, you shall always be worthy to be my ward. No matter what you do or how aggravated you make me. I am not your uncle. I will never cast you aside."

"Promise?"

"Upon my wand and my Name." Severus said solemnly. Then he removed a handkerchief from his pocket. "Dry your eyes and blow your nose, youngling. Such dramatics! One would have thought I striped you raw with a belt."

Harry took the handkerchief and used it. He was a bit embarrassed, but supposed he could hardly be blamed for thinking Severus would never forgive him. His aunt and uncle never had. He surreptitiously rubbed his bottom, vowing not to get on Snape's bad side again . . . this term. Then he resolved to do his best to accept his punishment with good grace and win back the trust he had broken, so Severus could be proud of him once more. He wanted that more than anything.

"Go to your room, Harry." Severus ordered. "I shall send in an elf with your breakfast."

"Yes, Uncle Sev," murmured his ward, blowing his nose yet again. He turned to go.

"Next time behave."

"I'll try, sir."

Filch led them all outside into the courtyard, a nasty sneer upon his face. Just then Hagrid came stomping up the path, armed with a crossbow, quarrels, and a large hunting knife in his boot. Said knife would have been a short sword for a normal human. Fang trotted along by his side, panting gruffly.

"Took ya long enough, Filch," Hagrid grunted as he halted in front of them. "I bin waitin' most half an hour. What kept ya?"

"I was telling these little brats about what they could expect in the forest," said the caretaker.

"Bin lecturing them have ya?" Hagrid scowled. "That's not yer place, Argus."

"Somebody has to put the fear of God into these brats, Hagrid. The teachers, even Snape, are too soft on them. They need to be shaking in their boots—"

"Argus, do yerself a favor and just mind yer own business." Hagrid told him.

"I'll be back at dawn," Filch snorted, adding nastily, "for what's left of you." He then stalked back into the castle.

"Come along, you lot," Hagrid ordered. "First we'll go to my place, get some lanterns, then we'll go into the forest."

They followed him meekly down the path to his hut, and waited while he retrieved three stout oil lanterns from a shelf in his hut. He handed one to Ron, and another to Hermione.

"This way," he gestured with one large hand towards the track leading into the woods.

Neville gulped and murmured, "How come we're going in here when it's dangerous? Why couldn't McGonagall make us write lines or something like that? I . . . don't want to go in there."

"Buck up, Longbottom. Yeh aren't supposed to like getting' punished. Yeh done wrong an' now yeh got to pay the piper. Now quit yer complainin', hear? Writing lines! Bah! What good's that goin' ta do ya? Yer t'come with me an' help me find an' injured unicorn. One's bin hurt pretty bad, bleedin' all over, an' now I got to find it and maybe put it out o' its misery. Yeh wanted to help wild critters, well now's yer chance. McGonagall thought this would teach ya responsibility, show ya that sometimes the best thing ya can do fer an injured critter is t' put it down. It's a hard lesson, but necessary."

As he lectured, Hagrid led them right into the forest. Once over the border and into the woods, he halted and said, "Listen close. The unicorn's in a bad way, that's why we got to help it, however we can. I'm gonna divide us up into two groups. Firs' one's gonna be me, Hermione, and Malfoy. The other's gonna be Harry, Ron, and Neville. Harry, you can take Fang."

Harry took the big dog's lead, glancing about warily. He disliked the dark, always had, since his poor vision caused him night blindness. Not only that, but there was a . . . sinister feeling about these woods. Harry shuddered slightly, he did not want to find out what lived in their depths, but could not stop thinking about the many dangerous creatures that dwelled within the forest. For some reason, he kept recalling two lines from Robert Frost's poem Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening. Severus had read him a few of the poems in the leather bound book Harry had given him. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep . . . Harry couldn't say the woods were lovely, but they certainly were dark and deep. He also had a promise to keep, made to Severus, to accept his punishment and behave himself. And he had a feeling that before the night was through, he would have miles to go before he slept.

He squatted down beside his friends while Hagrid showed them the silvery liquid splashed upon the ground which was unicorn blood. It reminded him of liquid mercury.

"Now, if ya find the unicorn, send up green sparks. If ya find sommat else, or run into trouble, send up red sparks." Hagrid instructed. "Practice it now, so's ya know how."

They all practiced the simple charm, until Hagrid said it was enough and sent Harry, Fang, Neville, and Ron off down the right hand path. Then he turned and went down the right fork trailed by Hermione and Draco.

Because Ron had the lantern, he led the way, trying to follow the scattered droplets of blood. Harry, Fang, and Neville stuck close behind him. As they crept through the eerie forest, listening as best they could to the myriad insects, night birds, and owls, Harry was reminded of the jungle in Kipling's The Jungle Book. Dark and mysterious, it had been, and like the Forbidden Forest, unkind to small boys. Harry suddenly wished he had Bagheera the panther or Baloo the bear walking beside him. Then he would feel safe and protected. He gripped his wand tighter. He had the oddest feeling that something . . . or someone . . . was following him.

But each time he glanced back, the trail behind him was empty.

Harry felt the back of his neck prickle warningly. But he stared straight ahead, trying to pick out the spots of unicorn blood, pretending he was Mowgli trailing an injured water buffalo, and wishing the night was shorter. Fang pulled on his lead, causing Harry to stumble.

He banged into Neville, who squeaked loudly and jumped about a foot. "Merlin! Harry! You almost scared me to death."

"Sorry," Harry apologized. He flushed, thinking that Bagheera would have cuffed him a good one for being so clumsy. Mowgli wouldn't have been.

"Shh, you two!" Ron hissed. "I thought I heard something."

"Where? Where?" Neville babbled, turning around in a panic.

"I don't know!" Ron cried. "Quit spinning like a top!" He reached out and grabbed the back of Neville's robes.

Neville, thinking some monster had grabbed him in the dark, screamed and shot up red sparks from his wand.

"What did you do that for?" asked Ron irritably.

"I didn't mean to, Ron. But you scared me. I thought it was a . . . a bugbear or an orc." Neville hung his head. "I'm sorry I'm such a coward."

"You're not," Harry reassured him. "This forest is creepy and I won't blame you for being afraid."

"Me neither," Ron said. The moon cast a pale shadow over his face, making his complexion ghost white.

Just then Hagrid crashed through the brush. "What's wrong? Ya all right?"

"Yeah. It was a false alarm," Ron said. "I grabbed Neville by mistake and he thought I was something else and shot up sparks."

"Humph! Next time be careful." Hagrid scolded. "An' remember to stay on the path, otherwise a manticore might think you're a midnight snack."

Then the gamekeeper turned and headed back towards Hermione and Draco.

Fang looked after his master and whined.

Harry patted the big dog's head. "Easy, boy. You won't have to be separated from Hagrid for too much longer. Just be patient."

Ron huffed. "Harry, quit talking to that dumb dog and concentrate on tracking the unicorn."

Harry was about to say something snide, but just then an idea struck him. "Hey, Fang could track down somebody. Why don't we let him try and track the unicorn?"

"That's a brilliant idea, Harry!" exclaimed Neville.

Harry grinned. "The sooner we find the poor unicorn, the better." He stroked Fang then said sharply, "Fang, trail! Trail the poor creature down." He pointed at the silvery unicorn blood.

Fang obediently sniffed the blood and barked once. His tail wagged, thwacking Harry's leg.

"Good boy," Harry said. "Go and find the unicorn, Fang," he urged. "Find it!" He prayed the dog could understand what he wanted. Fang was a boarhound, and all dogs could smell a trail better than people, Harry reasoned. Fang had been in the forest before, Hagrid hunted with the dog a lot, and Harry was almost certain the dog could track their quarry. He wondered why Hagrid had not thought to use the dog before, then shrugged. Sometimes people missed what was right under their noses. Skull had told him once that most people thought animals were stupid compared to humans. Dumb beasts, and the raven had hissed in outrage as he spoke the words. Harry knew better, though. For years, he had been friends with stray dogs and Mrs. Figgs cats. Any of them were smarter than Dudley.

He repeated the command to the dog, who whined and sniffed the ground obediently.

"Harry, for heaven's sake!" Ron said exasperatedly. "Fang's a stupid dog, he doesn't even know what you're saying. And he's a coward, Hagrid even admits that."

"No, he's not, Ron." Harry disagreed. "He's smarter than any of you think. See?" He indicated where the dog was smelling and now straining at the lead. "I think he's got the scent. Go, boy! Find it!" Fang barked, and danced eagerly at the end of the lead. "Atta boy!"

Harry took two steps forward and Fang trotted away, pulling the small boy along. "C'mon, Ron and Neville! He's taking me somewhere."

"Yeah, on a wild Snark hunt," Ron snorted, but he followed his friend and Fang.

"Maybe Harry's right," Neville remarked, though he looked uncertain. "Anything's better than standing here."

Harry jogged after the eager dog, thinking, Ha! I knew it! Fang's no dummy. He can track better than we can. He grinned as he raced after the boarhound. Miles to go before I sleep. Maybe so, Mr. Frost, but at least we'll find the poor unicorn before this night is over.

Little did he know they would find more than just the unicorn. Behind him, the wind picked up, gusting through the trees eerily. Ron and Neville scurried along after Harry, their clumsy footfalls masking the presence of the watcher in the shadows, who trailed them noiselessly.

Meanwhile, Draco and Hermione walked briskly after Hagrid, their wands lit so they could see the path before them. The big man seemed unafraid of being in the forest at night, he seemed comfortable within the great trees. In contrast, Draco and Hermione started at the smallest sound and nearly jumped out of their skin when an owl hooted close by. The trail of silvery blood glinted in the moonlight like a metallic ribbon, and Hagrid followed it almost without effort.

"Poor beast. Sommat got ya good." He murmured.

"Do you think it was a werewolf?" asked Draco.

"Could be. Then again, most werewolves avoid unicorns like the plague. Their horns can hurt 'em, see? A unicorn's horn is proof against all poisons, can heal any wound short of death, an' is purer than silver."

"Well, if it wasn't a werewolf, then what did this?" asked Hermione. "What sort of creature would dare harm a unicorn?"

"A mad one," Draco muttered. "Everyone knows that killing a unicorn brings a curse down on you."

"A curse?"

"Aye, lass. Y'see, a unicorn is the purest magical creature there is, an' killing one an' drinking its blood will give you a kind of immortality, but it's one that dooms ya to a half-life. As soon as a drop of blood passes yer lips, yer cursed forever. 'Course sommat like that might not matter to . . . to one who only wants a body an'doesn't about his soul or . . . ya know what I mean?"

Hermione and Draco swallowed hard and nodded. Then the girl said, very softly, "Then you think that . . . You-Know-Who is . . . behind the death of the unicorns?"

Hagrid heaved a sigh. "'Tis possible, girl. I think his body died that night, but whatever passes for a soul inside him didn't. Somehow, he's found a way to come back. Guess it don't matter much how or why, only that he can be stopped."

"Stopped how?" Draco asked. "Anyone who can cheat death like that . . ."

"There's got to be a way. I don't know it, but maybe Dumbledore might. Or even Professor Snape."

Draco was betting on Snape, after all Dumbledore had fumbled the Snitch several times when it came to getting rid of the Dark Lord, and the blond boy doubted the old man would come through this time.

"Or maybe Madam Pince might have known," declared Hermione suddenly.

"Madam Pince?"Draco stared at her.

"Well, yes! She's a member of the Society of Ravens, she must know a lot of old magic, Maybe that's why someone tried to kill her. Because she knew too much. Really, Malfoy, it's a common motive for murder." The brown-haired girl stated.

"Ya could be right, Hermione." Hagrid nodded.

There came a crackling sound in the brush up ahead. Before the two students could do anything, Hagrid had grabbed them and put them behind a tree. "Quiet! Not a sound!" he ordered, drawing his crossbow. "Come out, whoever ya are! I've got a quarrel trained right at ya."

There came the sound of hoofbeats and then a large half-man and half-horse emerged from the brush, brandishing a spear. The centaur had long reddish blond hair that flowed down his back, and his horse coat was the same color, save for a white blanket across his hindquarters, dappled with brown spots. His tail slapped against his hooves and he eyed Hagrid sternly.

Hagrid lowered his crossbow. "Oh, it's you, Ronan."

The centaur tossed his head. "What brings you here at this hour, Hagrid?"

"Me and my students—ya can come out now Draco an' Hermione—are tracking an injured unicorn. Have ya seen one like that anywheres?"

"Mars is bright tonight," answered the centaur, his eyes fixed upon the heavens. "It signals a battle or something violent. Not a good sign. You ought to take your students and leave, Hagrid. The forest is not safe tonight."

"'Fraid I can't do that. The unicorn's mortal hurt, least I can do is put an' end to its suffering."

Ronan sighed. "As always, the choice is yours. It's a terrible thing to witness, the death of innocence. They are always the first to fall." Then the centaur saluted him and turned away. He galloped off, his hooves making the ground tremble.

Hagrid turned to face Draco and Hermione. "Well, guess that's that. Most centaurs never give yeh a straight answer. I think it went this way . . ."

Before he could continue down the path, there came a bloodcurdling scream from the right.

Hermione felt her heart seize. "Harry! Something's happened to him!"

Hagrid nodded. "Stay here! I'm goin' t'see what's wrong."

He took three giant strides and disappeared through the trees.

Pale and shaken, Hermione clung to Draco's hand, and to her surprise he didn't sneer at her, but clutched her fingers tightly.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Fang led the boys right to the dead unicorn. Panting triumphantly, Fang sprawled on Harry's feet after bringing them to where the unicorn lay, a crumpled delicate ivory creature, broken and bleeding all over.

The sight brought tears to Harry's eyes. The unicorn was among the worst sights he'd ever seen, being second only to his mother dying. It struck a chord within him and for a few moments he could only stand and stare at the beast and wish he could make it live again. It wasn't fair that such a magnificent creature should be dead, never to run across the grass and chase the wind ever again. Behind him he heard Neville sniffle and even Ron groaned.

Harry found himself becoming angry as well, that anyone could destroy something so . . . innocent and wild. He stared at the limp form hard, and thought he saw it move slightly. He thrust Fang's lead at Ron and started to move closer . . . he just needed to make sure . . .

Suddenly there came a sharp snapping sound, as of twigs breaking, and Harry froze, his eyes darting back and forth. From out of the brush on the opposite side came a hunched figure in a black cloak. It scuttled across the ground and seized the dead unicorn by the neck.

A ghostly face with bright red lips and long fangs lifted towards them for an instant, then it lowered its head and began to feed, silvery streams of blood trickling down its chin.

The boys watched, transfixed in horror, unable to look away.

The miasma of evil flowed over and about them, freezing them to the spot, as the sickening horror of the deed was replayed in their minds, branded forever into their consciousness.

Harry could feel his heart racing as he screamed silently. No! It's my dream! My dream has come true! There's a vampire and it's . . .feeding upon the unicorn.

As if feeling eyes upon it, the vampire raised its head . . . and the cold black eyes met Harry's.

Three things happened then.

Harry felt his scar explode in pain, and he screamed and fell to his knees, feeling as if his head were about to split open.

Fang let out a terrible howl, filled with sheer terror, and took off through the trees back the way they had come, dragging Ron along with him.

Neville let out a wail that could have put a banshee to shame, but was too paralyzed to move.

The scream jerked Harry back to himself, allowing him to conquer the pain and he yelled, "Run, Neville! Get out of here! Run!"

Harry's desperate order broke the stalemate, and Neville gathered up what remained of his courage and bolted.

Only Harry remained, stricken and trembling, as the vampire bared its fangs and hissed at him. It started to get to its feet, its flesh gleaming moon bright with the unicorn's stolen vitality. Harry knew he was finished. This time it wasn't a dream, and he could not wake up. And there was no Severus or Skullduggery to save him. This time he would die.

Suddenly there came a blinding flash of reddish light. At the same instant, Harry felt a sharp blow on the back of the head. Then he was falling . . .falling a long long way into blackness. Severus, help me! was his last coherent thought before he surrendered to the suffocating darkness.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Sometime later:

His eyelids fluttered, fragile as a moth's wings, then opened slowly. He squinted in pain at the light, why was it so bright? He blinked hard, lifted his hand to dash away the tears. He did not know, for one awful moment, who he was or even where he was. Then memory hit with a rush. He was Harry Potter and he had almost been killed by . . . a vampire. . .

He made a brief attempt to sit up, but the pain in his head was too much and he could barely move his head off the pillow.

"Ah, so you're awake," murmured an unfamiliar voice.

Footsteps, light and even, caused him to turn his head. Through blurry eyes he caught a glimpse of a tall figure wearing a midnight blue robe and a flash of pale hair. He squinted, realizing only now that he was lying on something soft . . . a mattress . . . and the light came from a lamp upon the table next to his bed. "Who . . . are you?"

There came a soft chuckle, then the blurry figure leaned over him and held out an object.

His glasses.

As he groped for them, the blue figure spoke. "Don't you remember me, Harry? No? Well, it has been a long time."

Harry slipped his glasses on over his nose, his green eyes lifting to see the figure hovering over him. "Who are you, and where am I?"

A deep hood shrouded the figure's face, all save for a lone lock of bright gold hair. But he knew from the sound of the voice that this person was not familiar and that this was a woman. Slender hands came up to grasp the hood and toss it back, then the stranger smiled and cooed, "Why, child, don't be afraid. You're home where you belong. I am the Fifth Marauder . . . your godmother."

It was a few moments before Hagrid could make sense of what the terrified Neville and Ron were saying. "What do ya mean, there was a vampire drinking unicorn blood?" Fang began to bark loudly. "Fang, quiet!" the big man snapped and the dog ceased, whimpering.

"We . . . we were following Fang . . . an' he led us right to the unicorn . . ." panted Ron. "And then . . . and then . . . the vampire came . . ."

"It turned and looked at us!" Neville added, his eyes huge in his moon round face. "I was . . . never so scared in my life, Hagrid! I . . . I couldn't move! Then Harry yelled run . . . and I did . . . I ran and ran . . ."

"Fang dragged me outta there," Ron added. He mopped sweat from his brow.

Hermione was peering about the trees anxiously. After hearing what the two boys had encountered, she was more afraid than ever. She resolved to never be caught out of bed again if this was the standard punishment McGonagall gave out! Abruptly, she realized something the others had forgotten in their mad dash to find Hagrid. "Um . . . where's Harry?"

Everyone gaped at each other as they suddenly realized Harry was not among them.

"He . . . err . . . I thought he was right behind me," Neville stuttered in alarm.

"What if he got lost?" Hermione gasped. "What if he's still out there and the vampire's hunting him?"

"All o' yeh, follow me. I'm going ta lead ya out of the forest and onto the school grounds. Then yeh go back an' tell Professor McGonagall that Harry's missing." Hagrid instructed. "I'll go back an' search for Harry with Fang. Let's move!"

"What about Professor Snape?" Draco queried as he ran quickly after the gamekeeper. "He needs to know too, he's Harry's guardian."

"Uh, yeah, righ'," Hagrid sighed. "He oughta know . . . even if he's gonna skin me an' hang me out t'dry."

"It wasn't your fault, Hagrid," Neville consoled the big man. "Nobody ever expected a vampire to be in there."

"Or that Harry wouldn't have sense enough to run away from it," Draco added, snorting. "Gryffindors! You show your bravery at the stupidest times."

"Harry's not stupid!" Ron snapped. "He probably was trying to distract it so Nev and I could get away."

Draco made a dismissive gesture. "Whatever, Weasley."

"Hush yer quarreling now," Hagrid ordered bluntly. "Got enough trouble brewin' without yeh adding to it."

The two subsided after that reprimand, and hurried in Hagrid's wake down the path leading out of the forest. Their hearts were cold in their chest wondering what had happened to their friend.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Snape's quarters:

Skullduggery awoke feeling a strange sort of magic quivering through him. He fluffed his feathers and shook himself, gliding from his perch in Severus' bedroom over to the cherrywood four-poster where the professor slept. The posts were intricately carved with vines and magical plants and the headboard bore a raven in flight, which Severus had added after bonding with his familiar. The bed was large enough to hold three, a fact that had always amused the raven, and he often teased the solitary Potions Master about having a bed large enough for a wife and kids, if he ever allowed himself to get close enough to a woman to fall in love. "You're not exactly a dried up old man, Sev," Skull usually pointed out. "You still have plenty of years of loving in you, if only you'd quit hiding down here surrounding yourself with cauldron fumes and dried newt's tongues. That sort of thing might put a woman off."

"Then she's not the woman for me, Skullduggery," came the sharp response. "Now quit playing matchmaker bird. You're hardly one to talk. Where's your mate?"

"Out there somewhere," Skullduggery said flippantly. "We shall meet when it's time."

"And the same goes for me," snorted Severus, turning the raven's words back upon him neatly.

Skull fluttered to land on the pillow next to Severus' head. The professor slept peacefully for once, without tossing and turning or muttering and moaning in his sleep, his emerald comforter wrapped closely about his lean frame. The stuffed ashwinder rested beside Snape's head, upon the pillow Skullduggery perched on. They were thick ones, plump with griffindown. "I hate to wake him," the raven said conversationally to the plush snake. "But he'd pluck me and boil me in a cauldron if I left him without letting him know I'm going to be gone for a day or two. Pity, for this is the first decent sleep he's had in a week, after all the kid's put him through." The raven heaved a gusty sigh, then trilled softly, "Sev, wake up! Severus!"

Severus coughed and turned over, his hair spread out across the pillow, one hand beneath it.

"Severus, wake up! I have something important to tell you!" his familiar warbled.

Abruptly, the Potion Master sat up, his wand flying into his hand. He rolled over, wand lifted, ready to hex whoever had broken his sleep so rudely.

Skullduggery hopped backwards, crooning, "Easy, Sev. It's just me."

"Skullduggery? Why are you disturbing me? I need a few hours of sleep before I start brewing my second batch of potions tonight," Severus grumbled.

"I wouldn't have unless it was very important," the raven said, looking rather apologetic.

"Go on." Severus sighed, concealing a yawn. He lowered his wand, placing it next to him.

"I've been summoned."

"Summoned? By whom?"

"Thunderbird. He's called me to fulfill my debt," answered Skull softly.

"Your debt?"

"Yes. I incurred a debt to him when I called on him for assistance with the storm spirits at the Quidditch match." Skullduggery explained. "He told me I would owe him a favor and now he's calling in my marker, Sev."

"Right now?"

"Yes. Thunderbird cares not for convenience. I must go, Sev."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Probably to America. It's where he makes his home."

"You're going to fly to America?" scowled Severus.

"No. I'll use the portal he provided." Skull replied, jerking his head towards the shimmering rainbow circle that now hung in the air, crackling with lambent magical energy.

"How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know. Not more than a day, I'd guess. But I wanted to tell you before I left. So you didn't have a nervous breakdown when you found me gone." Skull said impudently.

"Nervous breakdown?" Severus rolled his eyes. "That'll be the day. I'll finally get a rest from your tongue, Master Impudence!" Then he reached out to caress the raven. "Be careful, Skullduggery."

"Always, Sev," his familiar murmured, rubbing his beak along the Potion Master's cheek.

"Fly safe, you rogue."

"Quit worrying, Sev. You'll make your hair gray. As MacArthur said, I shall return." Skull squawked, then after a playful nip on the ear, the raven flew through the portal.

"Wretched bird!" swore his wizard, rubbing his ear absently. "One of these days, Skullduggery . . . a new featherduster will be hanging on the wall." He shook his finger at the portal just before it vanished.

Then, wide awake and unable to fall back to sleep, Severus rose, put on his slippers, and decided to make himself a cup of cocoa. He checked his watch and noticed that it was almost nine o'clock. Harry should be done with his detention right around now, and be coming home. He decided to wait up and see if the boy needed anything before bed, he wondered what Minerva had made the five miscreants do, as she had not decided how she was going to punish them when last he discussed the detention with her yesterday. Hopefully it was something sufficiently unpleasant and memorable.

He started the fire in the fireplace with a soft spoken "Incendio!", then set about making himself a pot of cocoa. He used the coffee pot to steam the milk gently, placing the pot upon the iron spider, which hung upon a hook over the flames. The spider was a cast iron apparatus that had eight legs like a spider and a flat platform on top for heating things such as pans and pots. Its legs rested in the embers of the fire and it hung upon a hook attached to a cast iron arm that could be moved back and forth into the fireplace.

Once the milk was sufficiently heated, Severus added several heaping teaspoons of dark cocoa powder and some sugar, though not enough to make it overly sweet, he liked his hot cocoa a little bitter, like dark chocolate. He stirred, sipped it, then set the pot upon a trivet and relaxed in his recliner.

Despite his cavalier dismissal of the raven, he found himself missing the insolent rascal, and picked up a periodical to read, figuring he only had about ten minutes before Harry returned from his detention, hopefully chastened enough not to risk his life foolishly again.

He had finished his first cup of cocoa and was contemplating having a second cup when there came a rather loud pounding upon his door. Scowling fiercely at whatever ill-mannered brat had dared to assault his door in such a fashion, Severus gestured and the door jerked open. "What is the meaning of this ruckus?" he demanded snarkily.

In tumbled Draco and Neville, both boys were red-faced and their robes were askew. They picked themselves up from the floor and stood, looking as if they were facing a viper in its lair.

"Professor, you've got to help us!" Neville began, his voice hoarse. "We . . . can't find Harry!"

"He's lost somewhere in the forest, sir," added Draco helpfully. "There was a vampire and it attacked Longbottom and Weasley, or something like that."

"No, it attacked the unicorn!" Neville corrected.

Severus held up a hand. "Silence! Come in here, sit down, and start at the beginning." He ordered sternly. "I can't make sense of your babbling, except for the fact that something has happened to Mr. Potter. I was under the assumption that you were all serving detention tonight under Professor McGonagall."

The two boys complied, scurrying over to sit on the sofa.

"Sir, Professor McGonagall assigned us detention in the forest with Hagrid, we were supposed to help him track down an injured unicorn and put it out of its misery if necessary . . ." Draco began. He recited what had happened up until the time they had separated, then Neville took over.

"Professor, we came back as fast as we could. Ron and Hermione went to tell Professor McGonagall what happened and Draco and I came here. Sir, you don't think the v-vampire would . . . hurt Harry? I mean, it already drank the unicorn blood . . . so it wouldn't be hungry, right?" Neville whimpered.

"Longbottom, what you saw was impossible," Snape began.

"Sir, I swear . . . it really happened!" protested the Gryffindor. "The vampire was drinking the unicorn blood, Harry and Ron both saw it too . . .! It was awful, I'm not imagining things, honest!"

Severus scowled. "Longbottom, listen to me. What you saw is not possible because no vampire would ever drink unicorn blood. It is anathema to them. A vampire would soon as drink unicorn blood as you would drink poison. The first touch of unicorn blood upon a vampire's lips would cause it to burn up, for its flesh cannot bear something so pure."

"But it looked like a vampire," Neville squeaked.

"I am sure it did, Longbottom. However, that is a mistake a novice often makes the first time they see a revenant." The Potions Master replied, feeling a cold chill suddenly sweep through him.

"What's a revenant?" asked Draco.

"It is a creature of darkness, a body that has been animated through magic and will, it often contains a spirit which has refused to cross over and seeks revenge upon the living. It seeks any means to preserve its unnatural life, and does not care that drinking a unicorn's blood dooms it to a cursed half-life." The Potions Master informed his students.

"W-when I saw it . . . I was so scared that I . . . couldn't move," Neville admitted, flushing. "I felt like it was sucking all the warmth out of me, sir, and I was frozen. I couldn't look away and I felt like my heart was going to burst right out of my chest!"

"It could have, Longbottom. A revenant's fear aura has been known to cause those who encounter it to drop dead from the shock. It is equal to a Dementor's. You were very lucky." He poured two cups of cocoa and handed them to Draco and Neville. "Here. Drink this down, it will counteract the aura. Then return to your dormitory."

"What about Harry?" Draco asked.

Snape's face tightened into a grim mask. "Do not worry, Mr. Malfoy. I shall find him." He forced himself to sound confident, though inwardly his heart was fluttering madly and his stomach was churning. Of all the times for Skullduggery to be gone! Revenants in the forest, and Harry missing. Snape felt his heart skip a beat at the danger his ward could be in. Granted, the revenant wouldn't be able to touch the boy thanks to the protective amulet Severus had crafted for him, but Harry was probably lost and terrified, all alone in the darkness. The professor silently cursed Minerva's choice of venue for detention. Of all the times to assign a detention out of the castle! And worse, it should have been supervised by more than one professor. What had she been thinking?

His scowl etched into his face, Severus turned and made his way to the door of his quarters. "Finish up your cocoa, you ought to be in bed by the time my mantle clock strikes the quarter hour. If not, you shall not like the consequences."

"Yes, sir," the two chorused.

Severus left, knowing full well they would not disobey him. He strode down the corridor, his robe billowing like the wings of a night haunt behind him. Once Harry was safe again, he was going to give Minerva a good piece of his mind for putting his ward in danger, even if it had been unintentional. For now his priority was finding Harry, he could rant and rave later about Gryffindor stupidity.

Page~*~*~*~Break

"Severus, I'm so terribly sorry!" were the first words out of Minerva's mouth when the Potions Master arrived in the Entrance Hall. "I never thought a simple trip with Hagrid into the forest would result in . . . this catastrophe!" The witch looked remorseful and quite upset.

Severus shook his head. He was furious, but now was not the time to engage his sharp tongue. "Minerva, what's done is done. We shall discuss this later, once Harry is back. The longer we stand here the longer Harry wanders in the forest and I shall not have my ward spend the night in there if I can prevent it." Obsidian eyes glinting, Severus thrust open the doors and strode down the path towards Hagrid's hut.

Minerva followed, half-running to keep up with the Potion Master's long strides. "Severus, is Skullduggery with you? Have you sent him on ahead to scout?"

"Not this time. He is away . . . fulfilling an old debt," Severus told her. Never had he wished for the raven's keen eyes and clever brain so much as he did then. Just my bloody luck! He thought irritably, for Skullduggery could have located Harry much faster than he could have. But there was no use wishing for the moon, he would simply have to rely upon Locator Charms.

Just as he was approaching the forest verge, he saw Hagrid with Fang beside him, a lantern in one hand, waiting for him. Severus looked in vain for the figure of a small boy, but there was no sign of his ward. He felt the small spark of hope in his breast flicker and fade.

"Professor Snape, I went back to where they'd found the unicorn. It was still there, but no sign o' Harry. Fang found this on the ground where he musta stood, though." Hagrid held out a meaty palm, upon which rested the medallion of protection Snape had made for Harry. Its chain had been snapped in two.

Severus removed the medallion gently from Hagrid's hand, cradling it in his own. "It must have gotten caught on something and the chain snapped. He probably didn't even notice it was missing."

Minerva peered at the pendant curiously. "Severus, is that an amulet of protection?"

"Yes. I made it for Harry after he started being the target of so much misfortune, like the Plague Envelope. I told him to never remove it, and he never has . . . until now." He turned to Hagrid, tucking the precious medallion in a pocket. "Hagrid, show me where you found this. I will try and track Harry from there."

"All righ', Severus. But I had Fang search an' he couldn't pick up the trail no how."

"Fang's a good dog, Hagrid, but he's no bloodhound," remarked the professor. "Perhaps my Locator Charm will have better results."

They followed the gamekeeper into the forest, wands raised high, emitting magnified Lumos charms. Minerva and Hagrid paused and called Harry's name every so often, hoping that Harry would hear or see the light and come towards it.

Severus remained silent, convinced that Harry must have gone to ground and be hiding, afraid to reveal himself. It was what he would have done in a similar situation, and like him, Harry was a survivor.

"Over here," Hagrid stopped in a small clearing.

In the glow of the their wands, Minerva gasped at the heartwrenching sight of the dead unicorn, lying still and lifeless on the forest floor, its sparkling white coat dull, all the magical vitality leeched away. "Merlin have mercy! To slay a unicorn . . . is to commit a mortal sin."

Severus nodded shortly, he was more interested with where Hagrid had found the pendant. Reaching the spot the gamekeeper indicated, Severus knelt, careful not to step upon the patch of ground. He saw the indentation of Harry's feet, then, bringing his wand closer, noticed something else. A red stain upon the ground just behind the footprints. Severus carefully extended a finger, touched the wet earth.

Blood. Harry had been hurt. He swore roundly in his head then. He examined the ground, hoping to find a trail that would lead him to his injured child. Instead he discovered a second set of footprints, a short distance into the brush. Frowning, Severus measured them with his palm. They seemed too large to be a student's, and yet too small to be a full-grown man's. Perhaps a woman?

"Severus, have yeh found anything?" Hagrid's voice boomed out of the air.

Severus scowled, inwardly lamenting his companions' inability to be silent. "I have found two sets of footprints, one is obviously Harry's, the other I don't know. There is also some blood upon the ground. But they are the only signs, there are no tracks leading away from here."

"Blood? Then Potter is injured?" Minerva cried in dismay.

"Perhaps. Unless the blood belongs to this mysterious stranger," Severus declared, rising. He prayed that were the case.

"Could the revenant . . .?"

"No. Revenants leave no footprints, they glide above the ground," Severus reminded her sharply. "And if it had caught Harry . . . he would be dead." Especially if the revenant was who Snape suspected it was. He began to chant a Locator Charm.

But the charm seemed unable to grab hold of Harry's magical signature, which was akin to fingerprints, every wizard's was unique. His wand spun uselessly in his palm, like a compass unable to find magnetic north.

"Nothing," he hissed, the only outward sign of his terrible frustration and fear a grimace upon his face, which otherwise was a mask of stone-featured determination.

"Let me try," Minerva said, irritating him beyond measure.

Did she think he was a fool, or inept at casting, that that was the reason his spell had failed? he longed to snarl at her. It was her inattention and decision to give the students detention in so dangerous a place that had resulted in Harry going missing. And people said that he gave out unreasonable detentions? Merlin's bloody arse! No student, Slytherin or otherwise, could ever claim he'd put their lives at risk scrubbing cauldrons, or the dungeon floor, or pickling rat spleens!

He felt a small jolt of satisfaction when Minerva's Four Points spell also failed. She looked dismayed.

"I can't understand why . . ."

"Obviously, the spell cannot find his signature because whoever has him knows how to cast Anti-Locator charms, at the very least," Severus growled, a what-are-you-stupid tone lacing his words. Gryffindors! He thought disgustedly. Always looking for the obvious solution and stating it too.

"Then what can we do?" asked Hagrid.

Severus gritted his teeth. "For the moment, we are at a stalemate. Whoever has kidnapped my ward has us at a disadvantage right now. It is night, we are exhausted and not in the best frame of mind, and this is someone who is skilled at concealment. If Skullduggery were here, I could have him search and speak to the birds in the forest, they might have seen this person take Harry and run off with him. Rarely does a person think to consider that eyes from above could be watching, this one concealed his or her tracks on the ground, probably with Boots of Stealth, which leave no tracks while in motion."

"Yes, that makes sense. He couldn't have Apparated, because of the wards." Minerva stated. "I suppose the only thing we can do now is to return to the castle and inform the Headmaster, then resume our search tomorrow. Severus, I shall take full responsibility for Potter's disappearance, and accept any consequences the Headmaster sees fit to give me."

Severus' mouth twisted. "You needn't play the sacrificial lamb, Minerva. I'm certain Albus will forgive you your mistake, he's hardly likely to sack you since you're Deputy Headmistress." Now if it were my oversight . . . there would be holy hell to pay, but then I'm only his Slytherin Potions Master and any mistake I make must be paid for unto the tenth generation.

"Severus, I am truly sorry . . ." she began.

"So you've said. If you're seeking absolution, talk to Albus, not me. Right now there is one thing that matters to me, and that is finding Harry. My forgiveness can wait, old puss," he declared coldly. He spun about and stalked back the way he had come, anger radiating from every pore of his being. Anger and a frustrated helplessness.

"Severus . . . can you forgive me?" she called after him.

He did not slow, nor did he reply.

Hagrid patted the distraught Transfiguration professor on the shoulder clumsily. "Don' worry, Minerva. He'll come 'round. He's angry at me too, I can tell."

"And he has the right to be, Hagrid! We were responsible for them. And we failed poor Harry. Heaven only knows what is happening to him," she murmured, choking up. "If something should happen to him, Hagrid, I shall never forgive myself and I shan't expect Severus to ever speak to me again." Dabbing at her eyes, the Gryffindor matriarch reluctantly departed the clearing, her shoulders slumped with the weight of her poor decision and the fact that it might cost them all the life of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Page~*~*~*~Break

"My godmother?" Harry repeated. "I didn't even know I had one."

"Of course you do, dear boy!" the Fifth Marauder murmured, smoothing the hair back from his forehead as if he were a fretful child. "All babies born in the wizarding world have godparents. The last time I saw you, Harry, was at your baptism. That's why you don't remember me."

Harry frowned. His head throbbed, but he was suspicious of this woman's claim. He might not know much about godparents in the wizarding world, but in the Muggle one he knew that they were expected to take care of their godchild if his parents weren't able to. So why hadn't she done so? He peered up at her, trying to see her face.

Abruptly, she cast off her hood, saying with saccharine sweetness, "There! Is that better?"

He looked up and saw a face that seemed youthful, perhaps the same age as his mother's might have been, had she lived past twenty-one. Ringlets of golden blond hair cascaded down to her shoulders and beyond. Her eyes were . . . strange . . . she had one blue and one brown, and they shone with an odd sort of light . . . almost like satisfaction. For some reason they made him uncomfortable. She would have been pretty, had she not been so thin. Her cheeks were gaunt, lending a sharpness to her features than made Harry think of a bird of prey. She appeared to be of medium height, the blue robe wrapped about her slender frame snugly. He noted that she wore a small key on a string about her neck, and several pouches on her belt. Smoky gray boots peeked out from her hem.

He squinted as the boots seemed to swirl in his vision, as if they were surrounded by fog. He rubbed his eyes to clear them of sleep, wondering what was the matter with him? Maybe he had hit his head harder than he had thought. He managed to organize his thoughts and asked, "But if you're my godmother, why didn't you take me to live with you, isn't that a godmother's responsibility?"

"You're quite right, Harry!" she exclaimed, smiling as if he had just stated something profound. "You've got your mother's brains as well as her eyes, I see! That is what should have happened, of course. You see . . . I was your mother's second choice for godmother, she was my good friend. Her first choice, and the one that was recorded legally, was Alice Longbottom. She wanted to make Frank godfather along with her, but James put his foot down. Said one Longbottom was enough, and it was Sirius Black's turn, and a good thing too, considering what happened to them. Such a tragedy!"

"What happened to them?" asked Harry.

"You mean no one ever told you? Alice and Frank were assaulted by Death Eaters and tortured into insanity. They share a room at St. Mungos, and are incurably mad, poor things!"

Harry was horrified. Surely, they couldn't be speaking about . . . Neville's parents? He had known Neville lived with his grandmother but had never really wondered why. He had assumed that Neville's parents, like his own, had died. But this . . . he couldn't believe that Neville had never told him. Then again, it wasn't something one could bring up in casual conversation, and Harry had never asked. He felt so terrible for Neville, how awful was it to still have your parents living but yet not have them at the same time? In a way, Harry was glad his parents were dead. That way he could mourn them and go on with his life.

"How . . . how did it happen?" Harry asked then.

She gave him an odd look. "No one ever told you that on Halloween night, you were not the only family targeted by You-Know-Who? While he came to Godric's Hollow, led there no doubt by Snape, for all he claimed to change sides, he sent his Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr., to the Longbottoms to try and get information from them and they were . . . overzealous. They used the Torture Curse too long and too much and drove them mad. But we found the bloody scum and put them away in Azkaban for life. Crouch died there, and I'm sure Bellatrix has been driven mad by now." There was a sort of vicious satisfaction in her voice.

It made Harry shudder. As did her implication that Severus was evil. "But if you were my mum's second choice as godmother, why wasn't I given to you to raise?"

"Well, it's complicated." The Fifth Marauder began, giving Harry a small smile. She pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed. "You see, even though I was one of your mum's best friends, I was never officially named your godmother. Therefore I had no legal authority to claim you once Alice was declared mentally disabled. Now, that wouldn't have mattered if your godfather, Sirius, had married me like we'd planned, because then as his wife, I would have got custody of you. But we never had time to get married with the war on and all, and then he was arrested and imprisoned."

"Arrested? What did he do?"

"Nothing!" she declared passionately. "They say that he killed his best friend, Peter Pettigrew, and thirteen Muggles with an Exploding charm. Supposedly all that was left of Pettigrew's body was his index finger, and the Aurors had to Obliviate the Muggles who saw the fight, make them think a gas main had exploded, because Muggles aren't supposed to know about magic."

"My relatives were Muggles and they knew about magic," Harry pointed out. "They didn't really believe in it, but they knew about it. They forbid me to ever mention it."

"That was different. Your mother was a Muggleborn, so her sister learned of magic by association. But any other Muggle gets Obliviated if they see something they shouldn't."

Harry's brow wrinkled. "Obliviated?"

"It's a Memory Charm made to make them forget what they saw." The Fifth Marauder explained. "Have they taught you nothing in school, child?"

"We . . . uh . . . only just learned about Levitation charms and Featherlight charms. Professor Flitwick never mentioned that Obliviate thing."

"Humph! This is what comes of letting Muggles bring up a wizard child," she sniffed. "In any case, they arrested and convicted my Sirius, claimed there were witnesses and put him away for life. But I never thought he did it. I knew better. Sirius was a good and honorable man, he never would have killed his best friend, little Peter, who was a Marauder too during his schooldays. But I couldn't prove anything, and the whole wizarding world was in an uproar over your parents' deaths, You-Know-Who's death, and your survival. I would have tried to get a barrister to overturn the conviction, but before I could do so . . . my own family was attacked by wretched evil brutes, as was I."

"More of those Death Eaters?" Harry guessed.

"Yes," hissed the woman, and in her eyes burned a terrible hatred. Her mouth twisted into a grimace of pure fury as she continued. "They came in the middle of the night, neither I nor my parents or my brother was expecting anything. We were supposed to be safe now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was gone! His followers were supposed to have been rounded up and thrown in the deepest bowels of Azkaban. But some of them escaped. And they came to Norfolk Grange. They slaughtered my parents in their beds and when my brother tried to go for help, they cut him down like a dog! He was only fourteen! They attacked me as well, and almost killed me with a Cutting Curse. They left me for dead, sure I was going to bleed out and die. Only I didn't. I managed to stop the bleeding in time and then I went into hiding. I had to let them think I was dead. You see, I had seen their faces, they hadn't bothered to put on those grotesque masks. I could identify them. Mulciber, Avery, and Rosier! But I was too weak to do anything after the attack, I was half-dead. By the time I recovered, weeks later, the bloody snakes were in Azkaban or they had fled the country. But I vowed to have my revenge upon all those miserable Death Eaters. They had taken away everything I loved. I have dedicated my life to hunting them down."

"Are you an Auror then?"

She shook her head, a maniacal gleam in her eyes. "No. They wouldn't accept my application. Claimed I wasn't stable enough . . . that my grief made me irrational. Ha! The fools! I didn't need them to teach me how to hunt down Death Eater scum! I'd learned a lot from Sirius when I dated him. He taught me all kinds of tricks on how to track a criminal and subdue them." She bared her teeth savagely. "And when I found one . . . I made them pay! Oh, how they paid! I wasn't the Fifth Marauder for nothing, you know!"

"The Fifth Marauder?" Harry repeated, growing more and more uneasy.

"The Marauders were a group of Gryffindors at Hogwarts. They were pranksters and defenders of the weak, especially Muggleborns. They made the school safe from the Slytherins and the Death Eater kids, like Mulciber and Snape. Your father, James, was one. Sirius was another. They had two other friends, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. They were clever and handsome, and all the girls in my House fell in love with them."

"What House are you?"

"Gryffindor, of course! It's the best house! I was always mad for Sirius, and soon I joined them in their campaign to rid the school of all the scummy Death Eaters. He called me the Fifth Marauder," she declared proudly.

"But . . . what's your real name?" Harry probed.

"Oh, did I forget to tell you that? How silly of me!" she giggled, sounding like an adolescent girl.

For some reason her laughter sent chills down his spine. He clutched the sheet pulled about him and wished desperately to be somewhere else. Somehow he knew that his so-called godmother was touched in the head. He could see it in her eyes and it frightened him terribly.

"My name is Marlene, dear boy. Marlene McKinnon." She smiled at him. "But you may call me Aunt Marlene. Oh, I am so glad that I found you when I did. Otherwise that . . . creature might have harmed you."

"You mean the vampire? Where did it go?"

"Don't worry about that, Harry. You're safe with me and no dark creature will ever harm you. It ran off when I came, probably frightened of my aura." Marlene declared proudly.

"My head hurts," Harry said, wincing as a sharp pain shot through him.

"I'll bring you a pain reliever in a moment, precious one," she murmured, gazing at him with possessive eyes. "You passed out from shock and hit your head on the ground," she lied glibly. "But don't feel bad, Harry. Any child your age would have done so. It doesn't make you any less a Gryffindor."

She summoned a pain reliever and gave it to Harry to drink. Once he had done so, she said, "There. Feel better now?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I . . . I really ought to be going now. My friends and professors will be wondering where I am by now."

"Nonsense, Harry. You are still too weak to go anywhere. Besides, this is your home now, you belong with me. I'm sorry I never visited you before, but I didn't know where you had gone. And I was rather busy hunting down the Death Eaters. As well as doing research on concealment charms and other old magic. I studied with the Society of Ravens for a time, do you know of them?"

"Yes, ma'am. Our librarians, Madam Pince and Lena Rosario, are members of the Society, and so is Severus." Harry told her.

"Snape!" she cried, her face twisting into a sneering mask of hate. "He should have been put in Azkaban to rot! Instead he got off because Dumbledore, the old fool, thought he genuinely regretted his actions. He was acquitted of all crimes! Walked free to live his own life, steeped in the dark arts, while my Sirius was trapped in Azkaban. Lying tricky bastard! He's evil to the core, like all Slytherins!"

"No, he's not!" Harry cried defensively. "He saved my life three times and he became my guardian so I didn't have to go back to the Dursleys. He's not evil. You don't know what he's done for me."

Abruptly she grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him up from the bed, her eyes burning with a fierce loathing, flecks of spittle dotting her lips as she snarled, "Now you listen to me, young man, and listen good! Nothing decent or good has ever come out of Slytherin! That's the house He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came from and all of his followers. All Slytherins are dark, they're born with the evil in them. Severus Snape is one of the darkest, he came to school knowing all sorts of dark curses and he often hexed Sirius and James without provocation. He was a rotten sneaking little piece of dung, always minding others' business, always eavesdropping and spying, trying to get the Marauders in trouble. He's no good half-blood trash and the sooner you accept that the better."

Harry gritted his teeth, for her rough handling made his head throb. "My mum said he was her best friend."

"Severus Snape was never her friend! He used her, treated her like a prize, and once she realized that, she cast him aside. I told her long ago that Snape was no good, and finally she believed me. I knew, you see, how Slytherins can deceive you, make you think they care, that they have a heart, only to go and stab you in the back. Poor Lily! She felt sorry for the greasy git, he never had any friends, except the Death Eater scum, and even they hated him, I'll bet. He was a sniveling whiny coward in school and I doubt if he's changed much."

Harry shook his head stubbornly. "No. He fought a troll for me and almost got killed. And a dragon. If he was so evil, why didn't he just let me die?"

"Slytherins are cunning, Harry. They have many secrets, and they deceive as easily as breathing. You're just a boy, Snivellus knows this, and he's quick to take advantage of you. Like he did Lily. She thought he was her friend, until the day he betrayed her by calling her a Mudblood. That's a filthy insult, by the way. Then he showed his true colors. James and Sirius never trusted him, they always hated him, and they were right to do so. In the end, Snape took the dark road, like all his kind, and someday I shall make him pay as well."

"Why? He wasn't one of the ones who attacked you."

"He would have been, if given the opportunity," she replied coldly. "I know you're confused and upset now, Harry. That clever-tongued git played you for a fool. Trust me, I know Slytherins like the back of my hand. They always lie and cheat and their greatest ambition was to sit at You-Know-Who's right hand and kiss his arse. You can't believe anything they tell you. I was so proud to find out that you were Sorted into Gryffindor, Harry. But then you ruined it by letting that smarmy two-faced bastard to become your guardian. Still, you're just a little boy, and better wizards than you have been taken in by Snape. You didn't know any better." She patted his cheek.

Harry stiffened. "I'm not a little boy! I'm eleven!"

She chuckled indulgently and stroked his hair. "Eleven is not old enough to determine good from evil. You were being influenced by evil, child, and it's my duty as your godmother to protect you from your own foolishness."

"Aunt Marlene, I'm not stupid. I can tell good from bad. Severus takes care of me, better than my relatives ever did. He doesn't lock me in cupboards or work like a dog doing chores day and night. He doesn't call me freak and tell me I should have died along with my parents."

"Stupid Muggles!"Marlene swore. "You are very special Harry, surely you know that. One day you'll be a hero. Just like your father."

"I don't want to be a hero. I just want to go back home." Harry cajoled.

"Harry, dear, you are home," she purred. "Snivellus is no fit guardian for a brave Gryffindor, and the sooner you accept that, the better. Your mother would have wanted it this way. She knew I would love you like my own, as she did. You are the child I never had, my Harry. And I shall teach you everything a good Gryffindor ought to know, so you can make your parents proud. Who needs Snivellus anyway?"

Me, Harry thought forlornly. Severus, where are you? He had never felt more lost and frightened. The Fifth Marauder was insane, and he had a feeling that she would do all within her power to keep him here forever. His hand groped beneath his shirt, feeling for his medallion. But it wasn't there! He patted his chest frantically, but knew it was gone.

"What's wrong, dear?" Marlene inquired solicitously.

"My medallion of protection . . . it's gone! Have you seen it?"

"No. It must have fallen off in the forest."

Harry felt a sharp stab of loss. "Uncle Severus made it for me, he told me to never take it off . . ."

"Don't call him that! He doesn't deserve the title," the Fifth Marauder snarled. "He's not anything to you . . . and you don't need his dirty amulet for protection. I'll make you another, ten times as good."

Harry glared at her. "No. Don't bother."

She frowned at him. "Don't be cheeky. Or else I'll be forced to punish you and we don't want that, do we?" Her eyes glittered in warning. Then she shifted, her expression becoming soft and sweet again. "Now quit sulking and eat your supper." She waved her wand and a plate of beef stew appeared on a tray along with some bread and a cup of tea.

Harry thought about refusing the food, but he was starving and he realized he needed to keep up his strength. So he ate the stew, which was very good, a piece of bread, and drank the sweet tea. Then he glanced around for his wand. "My wand, where is it?"

"I've got it safe. You needn't worry," she reassured him. "You won't be needing it for awhile. You need to rest and regain your strength before you can cast spells. Merlin only knows what that slimy git has been teaching you, probably all kinds of dark magic, but I can fix that. I'll simply re-educate you properly. Then you'll be happy here, just like Lily intended."

My mum was Severus' best friend. She told me that herself and that he would love me like she did, Harry thought rebelliously. I don't care if you are my godmother, I don't trust you. You're not right in the head. But before he could argue further, he felt himself growing sleepy. He struggled against the soporific feeling stealing through him, but it was no use. His eyelids were growing heavier and heavier and his limbs felt like lead. Too late he realized she must have drugged him.

He felt himself sucked into the realm of dreams, and his last thought before he succumbed to sleep's siren call was that at least he had his pocket watch. He fell asleep clutching it in his right hand, and was comforted.

Marlene McKinnon, the Fifth Marauder, caught the faint smile on Harry's face and smiled in triumph. She would make the boy see the error of his ways, free him from the web of lies and darkness Snape had spun about him. Soon he would see Snivellus for what he was, just as Lily had with her help. She would not let her godson remain a ward of a dark wizard, not while there was breath in her body. Harry was a Gryffindor, he belonged with another Gryffindor, who could teach him the true path.

She smirked to herself. I will teach him to hate you, Severus Snape. Hate the very sight of you, and someday you'll hear him curse your name and send you packing just like Lily did. A cruel smile flickered over her features as she recalled the night Lily had kicked the lousy snake to the curb. Lily had sent Snape slinking away with his tail between his legs; Marlene had come upon him later that night, curled in the stairwell, sniveling over losing Lily. She had laughed at him, asking him why he was bawling like a baby. He had flipped her off, snarling at her to get away before he hexed her. "Poor Snivvy!" she had mocked. "Did you really think Lily would take up with the likes of you, when she could have a real man like James? You're nothing but trash, Snape. Death Eater scum and Lily finally knows the truth. Now why don't you go crawl back to the dungeon where you belong, with the rest of the vermin? Maybe some Slytherin girl will take pity on you and show you a good time." He might have cursed her then, but the Marauders had come along and Sirius threatened to hex Snape's nose off and the coward had run, scurrying as fast as he could back to the dungeons.

Someday soon, she vowed, she would see him run again, and then Harry would see that Severus Snape was nothing but a coward, just like the rest of his traitorous kind.

Humming to herself, she pulled out her wand and began to reinforce the concealment and non-detection charms about her home, one could never be too careful, after all.

26

Skewed Perspective

Severus went to speak with Dumbledore as soon as the Headmaster arose the next morning, to tell him that Harry was missing.  The words stuck in his throat, stabbing him like shards of glass, but he could not afford to let his pride dictate his actions.  His unsuccessful search for his ward the night before proved that he was up against a very good practitioner of concealment magic, perhaps more than that, and the last thing he wanted was to endanger Harry.  Though he hated to admit that he had been lax protecting the boy, he couldn’t deny the truth.  He wished fervently that Skullduggery would return, but the raven remained absent upon some secret mission for Thunderbird.  Skull would have provided moral support for the disheartened Potions Master, as well as being able to scout the forest for clues.

To his surprise, he found Minerva already there, she had already explained what had happened and Dumbledore seemed sympathetic to her and worried about Harry.  “I am sure we shall find him,” he soothed, stroking his beard.  “You mustn’t lose hope.”

Severus snorted after he entered the office upon hearing that statement.  He still had not forgiven Minerva for placing Harry in harm’s way—the boy had difficulty enough avoiding trouble, he sure as hell didn’t need a teacher placing him in worse situations.  “Are you prepared to search the entire forest, Albus?”

“If need be.” Albus said calmly.  “First I need to know what you cast and when and where he disappeared.”

Severus told him.  “Draco and Neville believe this . . . creature took him away, but I know of no creature capable of casting spells of concealment well enough to hide someone like Harry.  You know how strong his magical signature is.  I believe that a person has Harry captive.  Perhaps even the same witch or wizard who has been bombarding Harry with letters accusing me of being an unfit guardian and telling the boy to find another, more worthy person to be his guardian.” The professor said through gritted teeth. 

“Letters? Are you talking about the Howlers you received from some of the more . . . overzealous Gryffindor alumni?” Dumbledore asked, puzzled.

“No.  The letters are addressed to Harry and not me.  The person signs themselves the Fifth Marauder and claims he or she was Lily’s friend and James’ as well while at school. I have been pondering on it, but so far don’t know of too many students that were close to both of them while in school.” Severus frowned.

“Alice and Frank Longbottom were, but they’re in St. Mungos,” Minerva mused. 

Severus shook his head.  “We can figure out this person’s identity later, I want the search for Harry to continue.  The longer he is missing, the worse it will be. I shall ask Hagrid to speak to the centaurs, perhaps they will help? Perhaps Fawkes may search also, since Skull is not here?”

“Of course, Severus.  And I shall help too,” Dumbledore promised.  Sensing how agitated the other man was, the Headmaster quickly stood up and made as if to leave the office.

“And me,” Minerva said.  “It’s the least I can do, since it’s mostly my fault Harry was kidnapped.”

Severus gave a short nod, still not up to speaking with the Transfiguration professor. He might have forgiven a newer teacher more readily for making a mistake such as that, but Minerva had been a teacher for longer than he had been alive, she should know better than to assign a detention like that to mere first years and not go and supervise it herself.  Hagrid was not responsible enough to do so, and he was only one person besides. “Let us be off then.”

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

The three teachers returned in time for breakfast, there had been no sign of Harry, they had scoured every inch of the forest in a large area surrounding the place where the unicorn had died and Harry had last been seen. Dumbledore had felt a presence lingering of someone, but was unable to tell if the magic user was male or female, only that they had been present when Harry had been there.  Severus had discovered Harry’s medallion of protection face down in the dirt beside his footprints, the sight of it nearly made him tremble, for that meant his ward was defenseless against dark influences.  The chain had been snapped in two, making Severus wonder if it had caught on something or been removed forcibly.  He had carefully tucked the amulet in his pocket, he would return it to Harry when he found him.  When, not if.

Hagrid had promised to speak with the centaur Ronan, and Dumbledore to send Fawkes to search later this afternoon. In the meantime, Severus and Minerva had classes to teach and students to reassure, since now nearly everyone knew about Harry’s disappearance, thanks to the loose tongues of Neville, Ron, Hermione, and Draco.  That was the hot topic of conversation at breakfast that morning, and while some students, mainly the ones who either didn’t know or were jealous of Harry, didn’t care, there were some who were deeply concerned and fearful that the kidnapper could be after them next.

Dumbledore actually gave a speech reassuring the students that everything that could be done was being done to locate Harry and they would all be safe as long as they remained on the grounds or inside the castle.

“Oh sure, now he says that,” muttered Ron to Percy.  “But before it was okay to send us out into the bloody Forest alone!” His face fell then.  “I hope Harry’s not . . . hurt or anything.  You don’t think he is, do you Percy?”

“I don’t know what to think, Ron.” Percy said.  “He could just be lost or hiding somewhere.”

“Then why hasn’t Professor Snape or McGonagall found him?” queried Hermione,

“Maybe they tried and he’s been knocked out or something.” Percy shrugged impatiently.

“Or maybe . . . he really was kidnapped,” Neville said with a quiver in his voice. He blamed himself for running away last night.  Some Gryffindor he was!

“I say serves him right for breaking the rules and losing all those points.” Craven sneered. 

“Shut up, Craven!” ordered Hermione angrily. “No one deserves to be kidnapped, no matter how many points they’ve lost.”

“Well, if you all hadn’t been out of bed at night we wouldn’t have lost points and you wouldn’t have gotten detention!” Craven pointed out, puffing his chest up to look more important. 

“Maybe so, but we don’t have a choice as to what kind of detention we serve,” Hermione pointed out.  “We should have been polishing trophies or something, not wandering about the forest with only Hagrid to look out for us.” She felt betrayed by McGonagall.  A teacher should have been with them, then maybe Harry wouldn’t have . . . run away, vanished, been taken? Not knowing what had happened to her friend was making her sick.  She pushed away her plate of toast, eggs, and fruit.  She recalled how frightened she had been that night, scared enough to hold Malfoy’s hand and not even feel awkward.  But not as scared as Harry must have been, seeing that vampire feeding off the unicorn, or whatever it was.  She felt unaccountably guilty for some reason she couldn’t even name.

“Aw, listen to the little Muggleborn whine,” sneered Craven.  “Can’t handle a few minutes in the forest. Boo hoo!”

“If you’d been in the forest last night, Craven, you’d have wet yourself,” Ron snarled.  He disliked the other boy and his big fat mouth.  He was sure that Craven had been the one to trash Harry’s bed and trunk that time, and the kid was a sneaking coward not to own up to it.  Ron couldn’t figure how someone like that had ended up in Gryffindor.  He belonged in the gutter.  “Now shut up and quit talking like you’re somebody, you little toad.”

Craven opened his mouth to say something back, and Percy cut in.  “That’s enough! Craven, shut up, before I give you a three foot essay on the properties of poisonous herbs and fungi to write for me tomorrow. Maybe that will keep you quiet and keep you from starting trouble.”

“No fair!” the boy whined unpleasantly.  “All you Weasleys stick together.”

“That’s right, we do,” Percy said coolly, meeting the other’s gaze sternly. “Don’t forget it.  Now shut up and eat.”

Craven shut up.

Over at the Slytherin table, Draco was eating his omelet quietly, not really saying much.  He couldn’t believe Potter was gone.  His sometimes rival and friend, the boy who both intrigued and irritated him, was missing.  He wondered what would happen now.  Would there be Aurors and Search and Rescue patrolling the grounds, looking for Harry? Draco wasn’t sure what Neville and Ron had seen in the forest last night, but it had been pretty bad.  What would Snape do now that Harry was missing?

He cast a quick glance up towards the staff table and saw Severus sitting next to McGonagall, looking stone faced, picking at his breakfast.  He did not look happy at all.  Then again, Snape never looked happy. 

Crabbe nudged him, “Old Snape looks really cold, like an ice statue.”

“He’s probably worried over Potter,” remarked Goyle.  “I mean, he’s Potter’s guardian, it looks really bad if he can’t find him.”

“Maybe he could use our help,” Draco said suddenly.

Crabbe and Goyle just stared at him as if he had gone crazy.

“Help with what?” asked Blaise, who was sitting across from him.

“Finding Potter,” replied Draco. 

“I doubt the professor would ever let us into the forest,” Blaise said doubtfully. “You heard the Headmaster.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Zabini, grow a brain. I didn’t mean we go there alone. I meant we go there with him.  Help him search.”

“Oh.  How come you care so much about Potter, Malfoy? Thought you hated him.”

Draco looked uncomfortable. “I did. But that was before . . . before he saved me from the Pendragon.  He’s not . . . he’s not as bad as some of the lions, like that prick Craven.  And he’s Snape’s ward, which makes him family.  So we ought to help find him. If we can.”

“Malfoy’s right . . . for once,” Flint agreed, chiming in from a few seats down.  The beefy Captain looked grave.  “But so’s Zabini.  Professor would never let you two imps wander about the forest, even with him there.  He couldn’t risk something happening to you.  Me, on the other hand, could help him look.  Or Skullduggery could.”

“Where is ol’ Skull?” asked another Housemate.

“Dunno,” muttered Flint.  Usually the raven was always at breakfast, enjoying snitching food off people’s plates, imitating them, and perching on Snape’s shoulder.

“He’s probably off finding trouble,” said a Slytherin girl.

“Or maybe he’s looking for Potter,” mused Flint.

“When will you ask the professor, Flint?” a tall boy with a shock of reddish hair asked curiously. His name was Mark Tarrent, and he was a fifth year also.

“After his classes are done. Why? Plan on joining me?”

“I might.  It’s not right what old Puss-in-Boots has done, letting a little kid wander about in the forest with only Hagrid the Horribly Clueless for company.”

“Hey, I was there too!” Draco objected.

“And did you feel safe?” challenged Tarrent.

“No, not really,” Draco admitted.

“There you go then. The old witch really messed up big time.  I’m surprised Dumbledore ain’t sacking her.” Tarrent mused.

“Nah. She’s a Gryffie, like him.  He’ll let it slide. Now if it was anybody else, like a Slytherin . . .” Flint said darkly.  “He’d be booted out of the castle right quick.”

There were murmurs of agreement all around.  The Slytherins knew quite well whom the Headmaster favored, and it wasn’t them.  The only one who really truly cared about them besides themselves and their families was their Head.  Snape was always there for them, whether it was to answer a question, give advice, comfort a scared firstie, or punish them for some misbehavior.  And while he could be strict and unbending, he also would stick up for them, and that counted for a lot in a House where you were damned from the start by the actions of Voldemort and his followers.  Snape never made the mistake so many other teachers did, of thinking Slytherins were hopeless cases, bound to follow the dark road.  Instead Snape encouraged his Slytherins to be the best, and use their ambition and cunning to make themselves better students. He did not encourage them to follow the dark road, for he knew better than they where it led. “Think for yourself, don’t follow blindly,” was one of his maxims.  It was why most of them respected him and gave him their loyalty and obedience. For many of them, Snape was the father they never had . . . or wished they had.  Now they all felt for their mentor, they had all seen how close he had become with Harry, and knew he must be hurting because Harry was missing, maybe injured, or perhaps dead. Now, most felt, it was time to pay back Snape for his unwavering concern and caring. Now, their professor needed them for a change.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Severus looked up from grading the potions his fifth-year class of Slytherins and Ravenclaws had turned in.  Several of his fifth years, including Prefect Flint, were standing in front of his desk, looking at him concernedly.  “Yes? Why are you all standing about like sheep? Do you have a question about the assignment I just gave?” he asked, somewhat sharply.

That potions class had been uninspiring, if Severus was being honest.  He had given that class a standard potion to brew, the Befuddlement Draught, not his usual challenging ones.  There were several decent brewers in this class, and they had seemed rather disappointed afterwards.  But Severus was not up to par that afternoon; he was extremely concerned about his vanished ward and didn’t have the desire to concentrate much on his favorite subject for once.  He feared for Harry’s life and found his attention wandering, thus his choice of subject.

“No, sir,” answered Flint, who seemed to be the leader.  He shuffled his feet and looked at his hands.  “We just . . . er . . . were wondering, professor, if you . . . ah . . . needed our help.”

Severus arched an eyebrow.  “Help? With what?”

“Looking for Potter in the forest,” Flint managed to get out at last.  “It was Malfoy’s idea, but I told him and Zabini they were too young to be involved, and you needed someone older, with more experience.”

“We can help, sir,” spoke up Nala Singh.  “If we each took a section . . . we could all keep in touch with the Speakeasy Charm,” she said, naming a charm which allowed the caster to speak with someone as if they were right next to them. 

“Why would my ward’s disappearance concern you all so much?” queried the astonished professor.

“Because he’s your family now, and your family is our family,” Tarrent said simply.  “And us Snakes stick together.”

The professor stared into all of their eyes, finally determining that they were serious. He felt a warm glow of pride suffuse him.  So far, no one from Potter’s house, save Longbottom, Weasley, and Granger, had volunteered to help look for their missing Housemate.  Indeed, Severus had heard several derogatory comments made about Harry, and one little snotrag had even gone so far as to proclaim Potter had asked for it! Severus had been hard pressed not to shake the little brat hard and give him detention scrubbing the dungeon toilets.

“Thank you. Your concern is greatly appreciated.” He told them sincerely.  “However, I think we ought to see if Fawkes finds anything before we go in again.  I do not like what I found in there last time, and would prefer it if you remained here where it is safe. I would not like to inform your parents that you went missing as well.”

“We understand, sir, but what if we went looking in pairs?” argued another boy.

“A good idea, Mr. Winters.  I shall take it under advisement.  If and when I need you, I shall inform you by leaving a note upon the bulletin board in the common room.  You may go.” He watched them all depart and wondered how Albus would react when he learned the supposed House of Darkness had volunteered to find the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Drive-Snape-Insane first. It was sure to be memorable, Severus thought, a smirk stealing over his features.  Even better than the time he had showed Albus the picture of the study group in his quarters.  Then he returned to marking solutions.  If he didn’t do something to pass the time, he would go crazy with worry. And the solutions and test wouldn’t grade themselves, more’s the pity.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

The Fifth Marauder’s home:

Harry woke slowly, feeling groggy and disorientated. He rubbed his eyes to rid them of sleep and groped about for his glasses on the end table next to the bed.  Once he had put them on, he sat up.  He still felt lethargic, as if he were in a fog, and he resolved to not drink anything his so-called godmother gave him unless she drank it first.  He knew she had spiked his drink with something and he didn’t appreciate being drugged, not at all! He looked about, and found that the room he was in was almost the size of Dudley’s second bedroom at Privet Drive.  The bed he was lying in took up one wall, it bore a cream and crimson coverlet and matching sheets.  The walls were an odd stained wood paneling and there was a brown carpet on the floor.  There was an armoire against the opposite wall, the nightstand, and a shelf which had some books on it. There was no window, so Harry had no idea where he was.

He groped in his pocket and found his watch. He carefully opened it and smiled at the picture of Lily.  It was noon time, and Harry supposed he had slept away the day and night due to the potion she had slipped in his tea.  He scowled and tucked the watch away. He didn’t want his godmother seeing it.  He rubbed the back of his neck, it was still tender where he had struck his head.  By now Severus must be frantic, wondering where he was.  Harry knew he had to get out of here and go back to school, but he didn’t know where “here” was and he didn’t have his wand either.  He couldn’t leave without his wand or without knowing where he was so he could go in the right direction. 

Was he still in the forest? Or was this somewhere outside of Hogwarts grounds?

He slipped from the bed and tried the doorknob. Locked.  Frustration filled him.  If his so-called “godmother” was so concerned about him, why had she never attempted to contact him before now? Where had she been while he was living with the bloody Dursleys? He rattled the doorknob, another kind of urgency filling him.  He felt like a prisoner, not a cherished relation or whatever she thought he was.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Let me out! I need to use the bathroom!”

It was true.  Whatever she had given him made him have to pee desperately. He rattled the doorknob again. Serve her right if he had an accident on the carpet.

Just then the door opened and Marlene appeared, giving him a concerned look.  “Harry, dear, what’s the problem?”

Harry flashed her an accusing look. “I don’t like being locked up,” he snapped. “And I have to go. Where’s the bathroom?”

“Right down there,” she pointed.

He pushed past her rudely and rushed down to the door she had pointed at.

Marlene tutted at him, annoyed by his lack of manners.  It was something else she would have to remedy.

Once he had relieved himself, he felt much better.  He was tempted go and explore this house he was now in, but as soon as he stepped outside into the hallway, Marlene was at his elbow, steering him back inside his room.

“You aren’t well enough to be up yet, Harry.  That was a nasty knock on the head you took, you need to rest and regain your strength.”

He scowled.  “I feel fine.  I need to go back to school, they’ll be missing me.”

She gave him an odd sort of smile.  “Hogwarts is not safe for you.  Death Eaters like Snape teach there.  Dumbledore is obviously in his dotage to allow scum like that to teach children.”

“No, he’s not,” Harry protested.  “He hired the best Potions Master in Britain.”

Marlene hauled him up by his collar, her face suddenly losing its ingratiating smile and becoming vicious and cold. “The best Potions Master in Britain! Don’t be an idiot, boy! Snape is a traitor and evil! He has nothing useful to teach anyone, and should have been put in Azkaban long ago! Him, not my Sirius!”

Harry paled, but some stubborn streak in him refused to cower before her.  “If Snape was as bad as you said, then . . . then why wasn’t he convicted all those years ago? Maybe you’re wrong about him.  Dumbledore isn’t stupid, he wouldn’t deliberately put kids in danger.  And if Uncle Severus was what you said, why would parents send their kids to a school with an evil teacher? Nobody’s forcing them to go there.”

Marlene lowered him to the ground.  “You must understand, Harry, that Snape is a conniver, he can manipulate you.  He’s convinced Dumbledore he’s reformed and the old man stupidly believes him.  It doesn’t matter what the courts say—Snape is guilty! I know it! Now why don’t you lie back down? You’re looking tired.”

Her sudden shift from Slytherin-hating virago to sweet concerned caretaker made Harry feel confused and scared. He knew such mood swings weren’t normal, were irrational, and he didn’t trust anything she said.  “I’m not tired. I want my wand back and to go back to Gryffindor Tower.”

“I can’t do that, Harry. I told you, the school isn’t safe, you must stay here where I can protect you,” she half-purred, her eyes slitting like a lazy cat’s.  “Don’t worry, I can tutor you just as well as they can.  I know spells, old magics, that they can hardly conceive of, much less cast.”

“Where are we?”

“You are in my home,” she stated simply, shoving him down on the bed.

“Where?” Harry persisted.  “What part of Britain are we in?”

“A safe part,” she replied, not really answering the question. 

Harry ground his teeth.  “Were you the one who sent me those letters?” he asked then, his voice sharp with anger.

“Of course I did.  How else was I to try and keep you from making a colossal blunder? You should have listened to me, Harry.  You belong with your own kind.  But because you ignored my warnings, I had to punish you.”

“Punish me?” Harry repeated, then recalled a different letter. “You . . . you sent the Plague Envelope with the Hornet Dust inside?”

She hesitated.  “I . . . I had to punish you, don’t you see?  Naughty boys who disobey get punished,” she declared sternly. 

“I’m not your boy,” Harry cried.  “You aren’t my relative or my guardian. Who said you have the right to punish me? Do you know how much that Hornet Dust hurt?”

“I am your godmother, I have a duty to teach you proper behavior.  I only put a small amount of dust in the envelope, not enough to truly hurt you.”

“How would you know a proper amount?” Harry demanded insolently, furious with her casual dismissal of his pain and suffering. “My whole face blew up and I couldn’t see and my tongue swelled up and I couldn’t swallow either and it hurt like hell. Madam Pomfrey had to give me a shot of antidote in my bum and that hurt too!”

“Oh? You were probably allergic to hornet stings then,” she said, sounding rather indifferent.  “I didn’t know that.  Had you listened to me in the first place, you wouldn’t have gotten punished.”

She’s insane. Totally batty. Harry thought, feeling utterly desperate.  He couldn’t think of anything else to do but to try and get information from her.  Severus had always preached at him to know his enemy when he had taught Harry and Ron defense over the holiday.  “Do you always use magic to punish someone?”

Marlene shrugged. “Only when necessary.  It was how my father punished me and my brother when we misbehaved.  The McKinnons are an old pureblood family, you know.  We have hardly any half-bloods or Muggleborns in our lineage.  We are strong in magic and have often mingled our bloodline with other pureblood families, like the Peverells and Blacks and Prewitts.” She said proudly.

Harry didn’t like the satisfaction in her tone when she said that. It reminded him of Draco before he had changed his attitude.  His “godmother” sounded like a prejudiced bint.  “My mother was a Muggleborn,” he reminded her softly.

“Yes, I know. Lily was an exception to the rule.  She was brilliant, both in magic and in intelligence.  That was why I was her friend.  Most Muggleborns are stupider than dirt, they can barely master basic spells and wand movements.  But Lily was different.  It was why she attracted James Potter.  He could overlook her blood status because she was full of talent, and he wanted a witch who could pass that talent down to his children.  It’s why pureblood marries pureblood. It’s why Sirius was the perfect match for me, not to mention he was deliciously handsome!” she gave a short chuckle.  “Your mother soon learned the difference between a noble pureblood and a scummy half-blood like Snape! In the beginning, she didn’t realize how she was demeaning herself associating with him, but once I explained what a gutter rat Snape was and how he had lied to her about his true motives, she changed her mind about being his friend.  Snape was worthless and she forgot him once I convinced her to give James a chance.”

There was something sinister in Marlene’s tone that made Harry shiver.  She looked so . . . gentle and unassuming, but all of Harry’s instincts were screaming at him that she was dangerous.  How could his mother have trusted her? Unless . . . she didn’t trust Marlene, and that was why she hadn’t named the witch as his official godmother?

“It was because of me that they got together,” continued Marlene.  “Well, me and Sirius.  Both of us felt that they were the perfect couple, and all they needed was a few nudges from close friends to start the ball rolling.  Once Lily dismissed Snape, she could see what a perfect fellow James was and then they married and had you.  You look just like your father, Harry. Except you have Lily’s eyes and unfortunately her poor judgment in friends.”

Harry stiffened.  “My mother never had poor judgment.  She came to me in a dream, after Professor Snape saved me from the troll on Holloween.  She told me she loved me and that even though she couldn’t be there for me, there was someone who would love me just like she did.”

Marlene eyed him with keen interest.  “What’s that you say? You had a vision of Lily?”

“No, it was a dream, but not like a normal dream,” Harry replied, wishing he’d never mentioned it.  He silently upbraided himself.

“Lily projected herself to you in a dream?” Marlene repeated.  “Tell me exactly what she said!”

“She . . . she said she loved me and missed me and I shouldn’t feel guilty that she sacrificed herself for me.  I told her that Uncle Severus had said that too, and she said I should listen to him.  That he was her best friend and she loved him.  She told me to be happy and to live my life.  She said she was sorry she couldn’t be there for me, but there was someone else who would be, who would love me as she would,” Harry said.

Marlene’s mouth twisted. “She called Snape her best friend? You must be remembering that wrong.  She hated Snape! She would have never forgiven him for what he did!” Then she whispered, “She told you there would be someone else who would love you as she would? She must have been speaking of me.  She knew how much I adored you as a baby.  She knew that I would have taken care of you like my own. I think of you as the son I never had,” she crooned, reaching out to stroke his hair.

Harry shuddered and tried not to flinch away.  She was looking at him like a little girl he’d seen once looked at a beloved doll she had been holding—with a possessive adoration.  He felt as if he was smothering under her gaze and he almost preferred her anger to this creepy infatuation. He wanted her to go away and leave him alone, he wanted Severus to find him, or Skull, or even McGonagall, and wondered if they were looking for him now.  He recalled the petrifying fear cast by the vampire and hoped that Neville and Ron had gotten away safely from the monster.  He had to get free of her, of this place.  But right then he was trapped.  He tried again to reason with her.

“If I’m like your son . . . Aunt Marlene . . .” he forced the title from his lips, it tasted foul. “Then why can’t I get up and explore the house? Or go outside?”

“Because you’re still recovering from your concussion, darling.  But with a few more doses of my potions, you’ll be well enough for me to take you on a tour.  Then maybe you can go outside for a bit. One thing at a time, godson. One thing at a time.”

Harry reluctantly lay back on the bed, deciding for now the best solution was to comply with her wishes.  There was little to be gained from defying her yet.  Had she been the one to set the storm spirits on him also? Or did he have two enemies? So many unanswered questions swirled through his head that it began to throb again.  He closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.  He hoped it would convince her to leave.  Meanwhile, his brain spun round and round, trying to concoct a plan of escape.  But he couldn’t think clearly and soon his thoughts scattered as he drifted off to sleep.

Marlene smiled gently at him, then drew the covers over him and left, going to consult the Codex Magicka, an ancient spellbook of bindings and concealment, summoning and charms.  It had been old when the Society had acquired it, and contained many spells which were no longer approved by the Ministry for use.  Marlene no longer cared about the Ministry’s approval.  She would use any means necessary to reach her goals—to destroy every Death Eater and put all Slytherins on probation, and to teach her godson how to be a good wizard and love her as his foster mother.  She knew she had her work cut out for her, since Snape had corrupted the boy. But she would succeed.  Harry would learn what was appropriate and not . . . or else.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Fawkes returned late that afternoon, having found not a sign of Harry.  Dumbledore continued to cast locator charm after locator charm without success.  The old wizard was very upset, convinced that Voldemort’s followers had stolen Harry away, and vowed to keep searching.  

“Whoever is hiding him is excellent with concealment charms,” the Headmaster admitted.  “Everything I have tried so far has met with a barrier that bounces my own spell backwards.  It’s an old kind of magic.  But one that is done well.”

“You can’t break the spell?” asked Severus, sounding both astonished and angry.  

Dumbledore shook his head.  “Not right at the moment. I need to study on it some more. Forgive me, Severus.  But we must be patient awhile longer.  I promise you we shall find Harry.  But I have never dealt with wards like this before and it will take me some time to unravel them.”

Severus nodded, disappointed but determined not to show it.  He prayed Skullduggery would return soon.  The wily raven had never failed him yet.  And the bird knew the old magic as well. He departed the Headmaster’s office, pondering what else he might do, when he recalled that Lena and Irma were of the Society and might know of some old spells he could try.  Anything was better than this endless waiting.  

He quickly Flooed to St. Mungos, hoping against hope that Irma had regained consciousness.

Irma Pince slowly returned to consciousness, aware that something terrible had happened, but not remembering what it was. It nagged at her, the missing memories, and she carefully used an old memory trick to retrace her steps in her mind, starting with the last thing she could recall, which was going to investigate a noise coming from the library. And what happened after that? she wondered. Something had happened, something that her mind refused to think upon, but Irma was not the sort to shy away from bad things happening. She sensed it, just below the surface, and she probed gently. She couldn't afford to hide whatever it was from herself. She coaxed herself to remember, using the ancient techniques espoused by the Society. Because knowledge was their primary goal, those of the Society were trained in how to remember things verbatim and also photographically.

Irma called upon those abilities now and suddenly she recalled what she wished forever erased from her mind—Pippin lying upon the table, mutilated and destroyed. A deliberate act of murder, directed at her. Then, before she could call for Lena, someone had hit her on the back of the head. She opened her eyes. "Dearest Cerridwen have mercy!" she cried.

"Aunt Irma, you're awake!" Lena exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "Do you . . . know who I am? Who you are?" Her eyes flooded with tears as she saw the light of recognition in her aunt's face.

"Oh, Lena, my poor owl!" Irma wept, and Lena reached out to draw her into a loving embrace.

"I know. I'm so sorry!" Lena said, rubbing the older witch's back, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I heard you screaming in my head, but when I got there, you were lying on the floor and you've been in a coma ever since."

The two Ravenclaws clung to each other, crying softly for what had been lost and also what had been regained. Above them, a silent monitoring charm sounded, letting the Healer on call know that their patient was, at long last, awake.

After a short while, Irma pulled back and asked softly, "Did you find who did that to my poor Pippin?"

Lena shook her head regretfully. "No, I wish I had. But whoever was sick enough to commit such an atrocity was gone before I found you. I was hoping that you . . . had seen who had done it."

"No. When I entered the library, he was lying there . . . like that. I believe who ever did it came up behind me and hit me."

"But why? What purpose did it serve, to hurt Pippin and then you?"

"I think it may have been a warning of some sort." Irma frowned, then stopped talking as a young Healer entered, a smile upon his face.

"Hello. My name is Healer Gordon, Irma." He introduced himself. "Welcome back." He ran his wand over her, casting a standard diagnostic. "Your vital signs are good, but I'll need to ask you a few questions to test your memory."

"My memory is as good as ever, young man, I assure you," Irma told him firmly. "Nevertheless, I shall let you do your job. Ask away."

The Healer began asking a standard battery of questions, starting with the usual name, age, occupation, and address.

Irma answered them all precisely, he recorded the answers on his clipboard, then asked more difficult ones. To his delight, the librarian responded promptly and coherently.

"Well, it would seem you've suffered little to no memory loss, Madam Pince. I am going to recommend you be discharged in a few hours, as soon as Healer Mordecai arrives, since he's the senior Healer assigned to your case," said Healer Gordon, and then he left them alone.

Lena was so happy she was almost jumping up and down. "Oh, thank Merlin! I was so afraid that you wouldn't . . . come back to me. I've been praying and hoping . . . Mum sent a basket of your favorite spreads and jams and crumpets and muffins, and Dad sent some crazy singing flowers . . ."

"Singing flowers?" exclaimed Irma.

"They're plastic, not real, and they run on batteries," Lena giggled. "They're silly but cute." She picked up a plastic pot with some pink and red carnations and pushed a small button on the side. The flowers began to bob up and down and a voice sang "Get Well Soon, We Miss You."

They brought a smile to Irma's face. "Your dad's a sweetheart, Lena. I shall have to write and thank him and Morgana too. How are things with the library?"

"As well as can be expected. We—Severus and I—cleaned up the mess and later on Severus and Skullduggery buried Pippin. Skull even called a Raven Guide to lead Pippin down the Gray Road."

Irma wiped her eyes again. The loss of her familiar cut her deeply and it would be a long time before she recovered from the shock of losing her faithful companion. "How kind of them. How long was I asleep?"

"Over a week," Lena said. She gestured to a table filled with cards and small gifts. "Several of the students sent these for you." She picked up a shiny leather book. "This one is from Harry Potter."

Irma took the book, it was a copy of the classic Rudyard Kipling book, Just So Stories. There was a short note which read:

Dear Madam Pince,

Please get well soon, I miss seeing you in the library. When you wake up, I hope you'll read this book, it's an old Muggle classic that Professor Snape suggested. I especially like the story of How the Alphabet Was Made.

Your friend,

Harry Potter.

"What a thoughtful and sweet child!" Irma said. She loved books of any kind, and this one was new to her, as she didn't get many Muggle books.

Severus entered the hospital room at that precise moment, and upon seeing the book in Irma's hands, felt his heart start to crumble to pieces with anguish. "I . . . hope I'm not interrupting," he began, trying to regain his composure. It was not easy.

"Severus!" Lena cried, running over to hug him. "Look! Aunt Irma's finally awake!" she sounded like an excited schoolgirl. "Isn't it wonderful?"

Severus made himself smile quietly. He was glad that Irma was awake, for the librarian was his good friend, and this would have been cause for a celebration, if only Harry were not missing. But the boy's absence dimmed any joy Severus felt. "It's good you're back, Irma."

Lena stiffened, her uncanny intuition telling her something was wrong. She gently drew away from Severus and looked at him sharply. "Something's happened. Severus, what's going on?"

He arched an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"I just know. You're upset, I can tell. Without reading your mind. Where's Skull? And Harry? Last time we spoke, you promised to bring him."

Severus silently cursed the Ravenclaw's uncanny perception. But he couldn't deny it, she was right. And he needed their help. "Skullduggery is away, paying off the debt he owes Thunderbird. And Harry . . . Harry has gone missing in the Forbidden Forest."

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Fred and George had to grab breakfast on the run, they were late getting to the hall because they were brewing an experimental licorice whip in dungeon number three, which Snape had told them they could use that morning. "But mind you, if you twist your tongue into knots with this experiment, boys, don't come crying to me to fix you. You're old enough to take the consequences of your own actions. So if I were you, I'd make sure you had a counterdraft ready in case something goes wrong," he warned.

The twins were clever potion makers, and usually did not expect him to get them out of their own messes. Although one time they had almost poisoned themselves and Skullduggery had fetched him; he'd had to give both youngsters a strong purgative, and kept watch over them for several hours until the misbrewed potion had worked its way out of their systems, then sent them to the Hospital Wing. The memory of that incident still made them blush, but they also were grateful to their potions professor for saving them and keeping his silence. Ever since then, he had made them promise to let him know when they were experimenting, so he could check on them when necessary.

But this time they hadn't needed supervision, the licorice adders, candy that made you hiss like a snake for ten minutes, had turned out well. Only it made them late for breakfast, and they had only time to slip a muffin into their pockets before heading off to class. They noticed that everyone, especially McGonagall, seemed strangely subdued that afternoon.

"What's wrong with everyone today, twin?" asked Fred.

"I don't know. Maybe somebody died? Like the Minister's Undersecretary?" answered George.

"Umbridge? Then we'd be having a party, George. Everyone hates her," Fred disagreed.

Shrugging, they went to get changed for Quidditch practice.

Once on the pitch, they noticed Wood wringing his hands and looking extremely tense. Since Wood usually got worked up at practices, they thought nothing of it until everyone except Harry was there. George frowned. "Hey, Wood, where's our shooting star Seeker?"

"Harry's late, and that's not like him," Fred remarked. "Is he sick again?"

"No, he's missing," growled Oliver. "Where you this morning that you missed the big announcement?"

"We were experimenting," George said.

"You should see our—"

"—licorice adders!"

"Never mind the sweets!" Oliver said irritably. "Potter's been missing since last night."

"McGonagall gave all the firsties detention in the forest with Hagrid and something came and stole away Harry," Alicia cried.

"Stole him away?" exclaimed the twins.

"That's what Ron and Neville said," Angelina told them. "They were there when the vampire came after them."

"Vampire?"

"You can ask your brother about it later," Oliver broke in with a sigh. "Right now we'd better get practicing, before Slytherin comes."

"But . . . we need a Seeker!" protested Fred, dismayed.

"You think I don't know that, Weasley?" growled Oliver.

"Who's searching for Harry?" George demanded. "Surely Dumbledore isn't going to allow him to stay lost."

"Or Snape, for that matter," Fred added. "Potter's his ward now, and Snape practically had a coronary with the dragon stunt. Ron said he was worse than the Pendragon mama."

"Snape and McGonagall were out there last night searching and couldn't find him," Katie said. "I hope he's just hiding somewhere and isn't hurt or . . . or eaten."

All of them shivered. Oliver scowled. "Okay, enough! We're here to practice Quidditch not speculate on Potter dying." He released all the balls except for the Snitch into the air, then leaped on his broom and flew up to the goal rings.

It was a dismal practice, mostly because the team's mind was not on their game, but their missing teammate. Oliver called a halt after an hour, disgusted and upset.

While they had been flying, several other students had gathered to watch the practice, including some Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins.

Oliver landed on the ground, looking about to have a screaming fit. "We're going to have another practice the day after tomorrow and you had better play better than you did today, or else!"

"But Oliver, all of us are worried about Harry," objected Katie. "It's hard to stay focused."

Oliver threw up his hands. "What do you expect me to do about it? Conjure Potter out of thin air? I wish I could, then I wouldn't be stuck wondering how the blazes we can still play in the game in a few days. Without a Seeker we'll have to forfeit!"

"Why can't you just get a new Seeker?" asked Craven, coming over to them.

"Why can't we just get a new Seeker?" Oliver exploded. "Because, Craven you jackass, Seekers like Potter don't grow on trees!"

"Potter this and Potter that!" Craven mocked. "Personally, I say we're well rid of the brat. Not only is he nothing but trouble, he's a snake lover too. Gryffindor's better off without him."

Before any of the Quidditch team could protest, a quiet voice drawled behind them, "Looks like Gryffindors don't practice what they preach, eh? Thought all you lions were loyal and true. One mistake and you're ready to throw Potter to the wolves?"

They whirled around to see a tall Slytherin fifth year in Quidditch robes walking towards them. It was Mark Tarrant.

"Not us, mate. Craven's an ass," George snapped, glaring at him.

"I'd have to agree," sneered Tarrant.

"Who asked you, viper face?" Craven taunted.

Tarrant's eyes narrowed. "If I were you, kid, I'd watch my mouth. Before you get my fist in it. Didn't your prefect ever teach you about House loyalty, you little rat?"

"Potter disgraced our House1" Craven snarled. "Why should I stick up for him? He's a two-faced little creep!"

Tarrant just shook his head. "You don't get it, do you? You Gryffindors like to boast about how proud you are to have Potter in your House, but when push comes to shove, you abandon him like a stray kitten. Now that's disgraceful."

"We haven't!" Alicia cried.

"Why would you care anyhow, Tarrant?" Oliver demanded.

"I care because ever since Potter became the professor's ward, it made him family. He's Slytherin by adoption now, and we snakes look after our own—even if they are annoying little brats that get in trouble all the time, like Malfoy. Hell, even Malfoy straightened himself out now."

Craven's eyes bugged out. "You hear that?" he shrilled. "See? Potter's a traitor! I was right!"

Oliver glared at the obnoxious third year. "Shut it, Craven. You just like the sound of your own voice."

But Craven ignored him, continuing to rant. "Potter's a dirty snake-loving—ack!" He choked as Tarrant grabbed him by the collar of his robes and lifted him off his feet.

"Listen, you slippery little piece of crap! I'm sick of you insulting my House. Potter's an honorary snake and there's nothing wrong with that. He's no more a traitor than Dumbledore's a dragon. You keep your mouth off him, kid, or else I'm going to jam your foot so far down your throat it'll come out your ass. Got me?"

"MMasdfthg!" Craven gasped.

Tarrant loosened his grip slightly. "What was that?"

"Okay. Okay!" the other boy gasped, red-faced.

The Slytherin set him down.

"Why didn't any of you do something?" Craven whined. "He could have killed me!"

"That might have been a blessing," Angelina snorted.

"It's your own fault," Oliver said sternly.

"You're a complete jackass!" the twins chanted, their eyes gleaming. Then they pointed their wands at their Housemate.

Suddenly there was a blue flash and then everyone started pointing and howling with laughter.

Craven turned about in circles, crying, "What is it? What did you two twits do to me?"

"Gave you exactly what you deserved," chortled Tarrant.

Craven now had a jackass's face where his rear end used to be and a rump and a tail where his face used to be.

Oliver snickered. "How long will that last?"

"Oh, quite awhile," drawled George. "But not forever, it's not permanent."

"Too bad," said Angelina. "I think it's an improvement."

Katie pulled out a mirror and showed the stricken boy what he looked like.

Craven started wailing. "No-o-o-o! I'm a jackass! Take it off!"

"Coward, it's just an Illusion Charm!" Tarrant sneered. "It's not real, otherwise you'd have been dead."

Craven ran off blubbering for McGonagall, and the rest of the Qudditch team just shook their heads.

"I wonder if we could trade him?"mused Katie.

"Yeah, like for a new Nimbus," Alicia remarked.

"I'd happily trade him for Potter," Oliver sighed.

Tarrant snorted, clearly amused. "If you're really concerned about Potter, why not join our Operation Potter Search?"

"What's that?" asked the twins.

"It's where some of my House, including myself, volunteered to go with Professor Snape into the forest and help search for Potter. Professor will only let us come if we're fifth year and over."

The twins groaned. "Dungbeetles! That leaves us out. But not you, Oliver! Or Percy!"

Oliver nodded solemnly. "I'll help. And so will Percy, I'd wager. I'll ask around and see who else wants to join." He felt slightly ashamed that Slytherins beat him in organizing a search party.

"You do that, Wood. If the professor doesn't find Potter today, we decided we'll go in with him tomorrow to help. You can meet us down by the greenhouse, okay?"

"Sure." Wood said, and started praying that Harry is found.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

"Severus, that's terrible!" Lena cried. "How did it happen?"

Severus explained, starting with the ill-fated Pendragon incident and the detentions and punishments that followed. "I don't know if you were at the castle that night, Lena, when the Astronomy Tower nearly collapsed."

"No. I was here, sleeping in the chair next to Aunt Irma," she replied. "And after hearing that crazy tale, I'm glad of it. You must have been scared out of your mind, to see Harry like that. Not to mention furious."

"I was. I couldn't believe he had risked himself like that. I punished him as both teacher and parent. I gave him detention over the weekend and I spanked him also. Minerva took points and gave all of them a session with her dunce cap and detention as well. Only I didn't know what the detention entailed until later on that night. Had I known, I would have argued against it. Or gone with them. By the time I found out from Draco and Neville, it was too late."

Irma shook her head sadly. "Have you searched for him using a Tracking Charm?"

Severus nodded. "Minerva, Hagrid, and I went back out into the forest once the other children were safely inside the school. We found nothing save his protective amulet lying on the ground next to his footprints. Neville reported that there was a revenant feeding upon a unicorn before he and the youngest Weasley boy fled. But there was no sign of it when we searched there. Dumbledore and I went again in the morning to search, and he sent Fawkes out also. None of our locator charms can get a fix on his signature. Something very powerful is blocking them, a concealment charm of the highest order."

Lena was thinking hard. She wondered if the attack on Irma and Harry going missing were connected. "Aunt Irma, I'm wondering if these two incidents are related. When you came into the library and found Pippin, did you happen to notice if anything else was out of place or missing?"

Irma slowly shook her head. "No, I . . . I was so horrified that Pippin was . . . mangled that I . . . didn't even think to look about."

"Perhaps that's what the intruder wished you to do," Severus mused. "Forgive me, Irma, but maybe the owl was killed as a distraction."

"A distraction for what?" cried the librarian.

"For the intruder's true target. I cannot help but feel that as terrible as Pippin's death was, it was done to cover up the intruder's true purpose. Irma, was there anything you have added recently to the library, anything old and rare, that would have peaked the interest of an intruder?"

"The only new books are the tomes in the Society of Ravens section, and they aren't magical," Lena interjected.

Abruptly, Irma sat up in bed, her hand groping for something about her neck. "Lena! After I was unconscious, did you take my key to the Restricted Section?"

"No, I have my own. Why?"

"Because it's gone! I had it around my neck that night, I never take it off." Irma said agitatedly. "Especially not when I . . . recently hid something in there for the Society. A few days before, I received a parcel and a letter from the Ravenmistress, instructing me as senior archivist to keep safe a very valuable and ancient spellbook. You see, there had been an attempt to rob the Vault of Ancient Texts, and the thief almost succeeded. The Ravenmistress was concerned they would strike again, and so decided to split up the texts, sending a few to different locations. Those she chose to guard them were sworn to utmost secrecy. I'm breaking my oath now because I fear the text in my possession has been stolen."

"Aunt Irma, who else knew of the text being at Hogwarts besides the Ravenmistress?" Lena inquired gently.

"No one. Even the Ravenmistress was not given the particulars, Lena. I told no one, not even you or Dumbledore."

"Could the thief have stolen your key to look for another book in the section?" Severus asked.

"Possibly. But somehow I doubt it. I fear it has gone missing . . . and only another Society member would know of its existence and seek it out." Irma said gravely. "We three are the only ones at the school, and neither of you knew about the book. So this could only mean that the thief learned of it, how I do not know, perhaps by scrying, or some other method, and came to retrieve it that night."

"If only I could check and see," Lena said. "Tell me where you hid it, Aunt Irma and what the binding looks like."

Irma sighed. "Very well, but I fear your search will go unrewarded."

"Whoever did this was once a member of the Society." Severus mused. "I fear this same person also has Harry."

"Yes, that is very likely. The thief is probably using the book to hide him from us, the book is very powerful and contains many spells of old magic." Irma sighed. "What a fool I was! I should have protected the book better."

"It's not your fault, Aunt Irma. How could you know an enemy was inside Hogwarts and waiting to attack you in your own library?" Lena said. "The whole premise is absurd!"

"Nevertheless, I am responsible. We must recover the book. In the wrong hands it can cause great harm." Irma said. She leaned close and whispered the location and description of the book, though not its name. "Go quickly and return quickly, Lena. And be careful."

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Severus offered.

"Please stay here with Aunt Irma. Now that she's awake . . . the thief may try to return and finish what he or she started. I can protect myself. It's very difficult to surprise a telepath." Lena said. Then she shrouded herself in her cloak and vanished.

Severus seated himself next to Irma's bed. His face was lined deeply with worry. "Irma, would you happen to know who has been dismissed or cast out of the Society recently?"

The librarian was silent for several long minutes, searching her memory for the information she needed. "There were only three that I recall being turned out within the last five or ten years. One was a young man named Theodric Horn, he was discovered trying to sell one of our artifacts on the black market. He was given a trial and Obliviated, so it couldn't be him. Another one was Jeoffrey Maitland, he was a relative of Lucius Malfoy, and was close to making master status when it was discovered that he was still a follower of You-Know-Who. He was cast out, but fled before we could use a Memory Charm. Then there was young Marlene McKinnon, she was convinced the Society would help her in her quest for revenge—she wants to destroy all the Death Eaters, since they destroyed her family and almost killed her as well. She was such a bright student when I knew her in school. It's such as shame that such a fine mind could be so twisted by vengeance. She asked to be initiated, but the Ravenmistress felt that she was too . . . unstable, we do not as a rule seek vengeance against our fellow wizards, and Marlene was consumed by it. We regrettably had to let her go, but I have heard that she was employed by the Ministry as a personal bodyguard to UnderSecretary Umbridge."

Severus stiffened when he heard McKinnon's name. "I remember her from school. She was a Gryffindor and obsessed with Sirius Black. She used to fawn all over him and follow him everywhere making eyes at him. It was revolting. She even tried to tell Lily not to be my friend, but Lily always ignored her." Until that fateful day at the lake during fifth year.

Irma chuckled. "Black always had girls eyeing him, for all he was a troublemaker. I guess there's something about a bad boy that draws silly girls to them like moths to a flame. I'm not surprised she had a crush on him."

Severus rolled his eyes, but refrained from saying that only a girl with air between her ears would be interested in bloody Sirius Black. "So . . . we have Maitland and McKinnon as suspects. If I had to choose . . . I'd say Maitland is behind the theft. If the book is as powerful as you say, then he would definitely want it. The greatest goal of all Death Eaters is to resurrect their dark lord."

Irma nodded gravely. "He would be at the top of my list also. He would have studied in the vaults and he was strong in magic and cunning enough to try and rob the vault. If he had the backing of the Malfoys, he would dare much. And he never liked animals . . . all the familiars disliked him. Whoever killed my Pippin was a very sick person, one lacking any kind of common decency." She brushed at the tears flowing from her eyes.

Severus handed her a handkerchief and patted her shoulder comfortingly. "I'm very sorry for your loss. I know how much he meant to you. Skullduggery and I gave him a proper burial and Skull called a Guide to show him the way upon the Gray Road. He is safe now in the Realm of the Dead."

"I know. Lena told me. Thank you for that, Severus. It helps, knowing he's in a better place, especially after the way he . . ." She choked up then, and began to cry into the handkerchief. She would miss the little elf owl so much! He had been her constant companion for over twenty years. Losing him was like losing a part of herself.

Severus reached out cautiously and put his arm around the distraught witch. He truly felt for her, knowing he would be shattered if he had lost Skullduggery that way, for he, like Irma, relied upon his raven for companionship. He did not bother telling her that things would get better, for he knew that was the last thing she wanted to hear right then. So he simply held her, wordlessly providing her with silent sympathy.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Lena quickly crossed the grounds and entered the castle, making her way up to the library at lightning speed. Luckily, most of the students' classes had been let out for the day so she didn't have to answer any questions about how her aunt was or where to find a book in the library. She had lowered her shields as well, but there was no one lurking in the shadows, the only minds she sensed was those of young students studying or griping about homework or detention.

She made her way over to the Restricted Section, and unlocked the door to the annex with her key. Once inside, she locked the door behind her and moved five shelves down and six over, running her fingers over the spines of the books. She felt the crackle of ambient magic as she did so. Silently she counted in her head down the row of books until she came to the fourth wooden post that divided the sections. She carefully placed her hands in fan fashion on the post, with the tips of her thumbs touching.

Then she bowed her head, summoning her magic. "Know thyself," she spoke in Greek.

Her hands flared with brilliant green light and the energy radiated outward, revealing a small hidden door in the post.

Lena gently tugged the door open and felt about in the dark space beyond.

But the secret cupboard was empty, its treasure gone.

Lena swore softly and closed the cupboard. A quick motion of her hand restored the post and hid the cupboard once more.

Irma had been right. The thief had been after the ancient text. They would all have to be very careful, for the fugitive was desperate, dangerous, and depraved. Poor Harry! Lena thought, her heart going out to the boy. What sort of torment must he be going through? She only hoped they could find him before it was too late.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Harry had fallen asleep in spite of himself after Marlene had left the room. But now he was wide awake and itching to explore the place. He knew he had to find a way out of here. But first he need to figure out where things were in the house and find his wand. Then he would bide his time until an opportunity presented itself to escape.

He padded over to the door and turned the knob. Thankfully it wasn't locked. He padded quietly down the hall in his socks, trying all four doors in the hallway. The one to the right of his room was the loo, opposite was a closet. The door down from the bathroom was locked. Across from it was what looked like a walk in closet with several cloaks, capes, and robes, all in differing hues and materials.

He reached the end of the hallway and peered out into a large sitting room with a crackling fireplace. A sofa colored brick red was across from it, and the whole room was done in reddish-brown earth tones. A large rug with a lion rampant was in front of the hearth. There was a large bookshelf on the right hand side of the fireplace. On the left was a large wooden stand, sort of like the podium in the Great Hall where Dumbledore stood to give announcements.

Only this one had a scrolled top and held a very large book. Harry had never seen a book so big in his life, it was almost as thick as the dictionary, and half the size of the coffee table in front of the sofa. Something about the book seemed to call to him and he approached it carefully. The cover was a vibrant silver, with golden clasps. The silvery material was not leather, but some sort of animal hide, with tiny scales, like a snake's. Or perhaps . . . a dragon's. There were runes upon the cover which Harry couldn't read. An emerald carved in the shape of an eye was beneath them.

Harry placed his hand on the cover. It felt warm to the touch, and suddenly the runes rearranged themselves into words he could understand.

The Codex Magicka.

Harry felt an urge to open the book. His fingers skimmed the pages and clicked the clasp open.

Welcome, child of prophecy. I have waited long for one such as you to find me. Open me, and I shall teach you all the secrets of the ancients.

Harry was so startled he nearly stumbled backwards. Who said that?

I did.

You're a talking book?

I am a magical repository of all the spells of the ancients.

Can you help me get out of here? I want to go home.

I want the same thing. Take me with you, boy.

Harry was about to open the book when there came sudden footsteps behind him.

"Harry James Potter, get your hands off that book! Now!"

Harry looked up in alarm to see a very angry Marlene bearing down upon him.  Her eyes were burning with fury and she looked ready to throttle him with her bare hands.  He slowly backed away from the book, his eyes wide.  “Aunt Marlene!” he exclaimed. “I . . . I just wanted to have a look—”

The angry witch came to stand in front of the podium.  “That book, young man, is a very ancient and dangerous spellbook.  You had no business laying a finger on it! Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to touch magical objects you know nothing about? Or that belong to other people?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized, hoping to appease her. He had a feeling he was on dangerous ground.  “All I did was open the clasp.  If the book shouldn’t be touched, why isn’t it locked up?”

Her eyes narrowed.  “If I don’t wish to lock up a book in my home, that is my decision.  Don’t be cheeky.  You are never to touch this book again, am I understood? I don’t need your grubby fingers all over it, and I doubt if you will understand anything in it. I will not tolerate any disobedience, Harry James.  I told you to stay in your room and here I find you wandering about, touching spellbooks that aren’t yours.” Her mouth narrowed to a thin cold line.  “I’m going to teach you a lesson, young man.  Hold out your hand.”

Puzzled, Harry did as she asked, holding his hand out with the palm facing up. There was a loud hiss and then a ruler came out of nowhere and smacked him across the hand three times with the ruler.  Harry yelped, unable to help himself.  “Oww! But I didn’t do anything to the book! I didn’t know I couldn’t touch it.”

“Don’t make excuses for yourself.” She said in a cold tone.  “Like a coward Slytherin.”

“Slytherins aren’t cowards and I’m not making excuses,” Harry blurted before he could think better of it.

“How dare you contradict me? I’m your elder and your godmother!” she snapped.

Harry yelled in pain as the ruler promptly smacked him hard on the bum. He jumped and tried to turn about, but the ruler followed him and whacked him several more times, until his bottom was throbbing and he was sobbing softly. 

“Are you going to answer me back again?” she growled.

Harry shook his head, tears streaming down his face. He was cradling his hand against his chest and his other hand was covering his backside, where the ruler hovered. He wasn’t sure which hurt more, his hand or his bottom.

“Good,” she purred. There was an odd light in her eyes, almost like satisfaction, when she gazed at him.  “Have you learned your lesson then, child?”

“Yes,” he managed to say.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Aunt Marlene.”

“Make sure you remember it, or next time you’ll get worse,” she stated, and her eyes were cold and merciless.  The ruler vanished with a pop.

Harry shuddered at the look she gave him.  It was a look one might have given a misbehaving dog or a slave.  It was not a look one would have given a beloved nephew.  Harry quickly wiped his eyes on his sleeve.  He had never been beaten before, and to have gotten in such trouble over an innocent mistake and a cheeky remark seemed monstrously unfair.  Even Snape at his worst had never harmed him so badly.  Harry wondered what Marlene would think if she knew that she was more of a tyrant that the Head of Slytherin and more vicious in her punishments than even his relatives.

He looked down and avoided her eyes, but not because he was frightened of her.  Well, he was frightened of what she might to do him and that she seemed crazy with hatred towards anyone who was Slytherin or who defended them.  But he was not cowed by her viciousness, as she wished him to be.  He also had no respect for her and certainly did not like her at all.  She was obsessed and cruel towards anyone who didn’t see her viewpoint and his biggest fear was being stuck here. 

Abruptly, Marlene placed her hand on his shoulder and said, in a mild voice totally the opposite of what she had been using before, “Come now, don’t sulk.  That’s not the way a Gryffindor should behave.  You should accept your punishment gracefully and learn from it.”

What am I supposed to learn from it? That you’re an unfair bitch? He thought defiantly.  I already knew that! He struggled to keep his face neutral, and not full of defiance and anger.  He thought of Severus, and somehow it calmed him.  He prayed that Snape and Skull would find him soon. He didn’t know how much more he could take of this crazy woman. 

Marlene tipped his chin up, forcing him to look at her.  “I’m sorry,” he made himself say, his voice meek.  “I’ll behave from now on.”

“I’m glad to hear it.  Come, follow me, and I shall show you the rest of my home.” She beckoned him to follow her out of the den and down a short hallway.  “Here is the dining room and kitchen. I don’t do much cooking, that’s why I have Prissy, my house elf.  She’s served the McKinnon’s for generations.”

Harry looked about, not seeing anyone.  “Where is she?”

“Oh, you won’t see her, my servants don’t show themselves to anyone but family. A good servant should be invisible.” Marlene said in a somewhat condescending tone.  “Had you been raised by your parents, you would have learned that already.  Potter Manor had many house elves, and most you never saw, only the results of their handiwork, like a clean room or a meal presented or clothes cleaned.”

She moved onto another room.  “Here is where I brew my potions, this is not to be entered by you at all.” She indicated a room that looked similar to the potions lab at school, only smaller and decorated in Gryffindor red and gold.  “There are other rooms along here, empty ones now. Ah, here is one you may like. This was our playroom, my brother’s and mine.”

She opened the door to a rather large room with colorful pictures of mythical creatures painted on it.  Inside were bookshelves with colorful books on them, a small table and chairs, couches and a box full of toys.  On the table was a chess set, a deck of cards, and some parchment and quills with ink.  There was rug on the floor patterned with several jungle animals. 

“You may spend as much time as you wish in here,” she said, acting as if she were conferring a great honor on him. 

Harry nodded.  He thought he was too old for this room, but didn’t bother to point it out. There was a window here and Harry went to look out of it. 

It looked over a broad sweep of lawn with some trees, but Harry recognized none of it. It could have been anywhere in England or Scotland.  It might not have even been real, he thought, recalling how the Slytherins had charmed windows in their common room, which was under the lake.  He turned to Marlene. “It looks nice out. Can I go take a walk?”

“No, dear.  Not right now. Perhaps some other time.” She led him back down the hallway and into the dining room.  “Would you care to have tea?” She clapped her hands. “Prissy! Bring us some tea!”

Harry felt more than heard something brush past him.  But just as he turned to see what it could have been, Marlene said, “You may sit down, Harry.  Tea shall be served shortly.”

He made his way gingerly to a chair with a plump cushion and eased himself down on it.  It hurt, but he didn’t complain, doubtless Marlene would tell him it was his own fault.  He couldn’t believe she expected him to just have tea with her as if she hadn’t beaten him for a mistake.  But her face was smooth and serene, maybe that had been commonplace when she had grown up here. 

The tea arrived on a silver tea service and there were also some small sandwiches of cress and ham and shortbreads with jam.  There were gooseberry tarts and lemon curd custard.  Marlene ate daintily and quickly.  Harry ate too, the small sandwiches and tarts barely filled him up, but he was careful not to eat too much, and to hold his teacup with his left hand, since his right was still sore and had marks across the palm. 

As she poured herself a cup of tea, Marlene tried to strike up a conversation with him.  “Did anyone ever tell you about the first time your mum took your dad out on a date?”

Harry looked up from his perusal of the tea service, now why would she bring that up? “No. I . . . I don’t really know too much about them.”

Marlene gave a small smirk.  “Well, I was there from the beginning, and I know more about them than anyone, except perhaps Sirius.  Lily wasn’t too keen on your dad at first, because he used to hex stupid Slytherins like Snivellus, and once she had been his friend.  But I convinced her to give James a try, I said there was no sense in her mooning over a slimy snake who would have turned dark with or without her.  You see, at one point she was almost going to forgive that scumsucker, she thought she could save him from the darkness or some such rot!” Marlene laughed, a bitter brittle laugh.

Harry was silent, but inside he was cheering.  Then he sobered, because obviously the reconciliation had never happened.  “How did you convince her not to?”

“Well, I was her best friend, you know, besides Alice Longbottom.  She trusted me.  One night I followed some of those snakes across the grounds, they were all Death Eater sons, and I took a picture of them all huddled about some pentacle, I think they were trying to summon up a revenant, and there was one there that sort of looked like greasy Snivellus.  And for all I knew it could have been. It probably was.  But I wasn’t going to get close enough to get caught.  So I took it and showed it to Lily.  I told her Snape was there at the meeting, that he was a waste of her time.”

“Then she gave up on him?” Harry asked. He longed to shout that she was a lying piece of crap, but didn’t dare. 

“No, she was stubborn and for some reason refused to believe there wasn’t good in him still.  But I eventually convinced her he was nothing but an evil manipulative bastard that used her for her own ends.  She was depressed at first, and wanted nothing to do with James. But then I brewed her some Calming Draughts and helped her put all her memories of Snivellus as her friend inside her mind and ignore them. Because who needed him anymore?”

Harry gaped at her, wondering if he understood her correctly. “You . . . you made her forget things?”

“Forget things? Like a Memory Charm? No, nothing so drastic.  I just helped her put the memories away somewhere in her mind and she threw away the key.  From then on, she never mentioned Snivellus again, and when he tried to speak to her, she turned and walked away.  But enough about that Death  Eater.  What’s important is your mum and dad . . .”

Harry listened as she recited a rather saccharine story about Lily and James’ first date at Hogsmeade at Madam Puddifoot’s shop.  She made it sound like they were madly in love, but Harry thought it seemed rather sudden.  Did one really fall in love that quickly? He would have thought it would take more time.  Not that he didn’t believe his parents had loved each other, but . . . the way Marlene told it sounded rather like a fairy tale.  Like when the prince woke the fair maiden with a kiss and she loved him instantly. 

The other thing that kept going through his head was that Marlene had somehow convinced Lily to forget Severus. And that was scary. What if she tried the same thing on him? He knew he couldn’t let that happen, but how would he know she was even doing it, if he had forgotten the person he was supposed to remember?

Marlene prattled on and on about what a perfect couple Lily and James had made and how brave James was and how Lily was brilliant with charms and potions.  Harry listened with half an ear, for he didn’t trust Marlene to tell him the truth.  Not after what he had seen her do and she had done to him. He pushed his plate back. “I’m finished. Thank you.”

He would have tried to leave, he was hurting still and wanted to go back and lie down, but she insisted he stay and pulled out an old blue leather album, which contained pictures of Marlene, Sirius, Lupin, and the Potters.  Harry would have enjoyed the pictures more without Marlene’s input.  He tried to feel a connection between the people in the photos and himself, but he couldn’t.  It was like looking at characters in a book, they had shape but no substance. He stared at a picture of Sirius, thinking he was a nice fellow, and it was too bad they couldn’t meet one day, but that was unlikely considering he was in Azkaban.  He felt himself start to drift off, for Marlene’s voice was soporific

He heard the thunk of something being set down in front of him.  He noticed it was a potion of some sort. “What’s that?”

“A pain reliever,” she replied. “Go on, drink up!”

Harry hesitated, but with Marlene here, there was no way he could pretend to drink the potion.  He took a swallow and then another.  It didn’t taste bad and it did numb the pain from him.  He stood up and said, “May I be excused, please? I’m kind of tired.”

“Yes, run along and take a nap.  I need to do some research.  Dinner is at 7 and after we can talk more about your parents.  I have lots of stories to tell from their schooldays and after you were born.” She waved him off.

Harry went gratefully.  As soon as he reached his room, he looked for a quill and parchment.  Then he began to write, leaning over the nightstand.

My name is Harry James Potter.

I am a Gryffindor at Hogwarts

My guardian is Severus Snape

He has a familiar named Skull, who calls me bran-boy.

I was brought here against my will

I need to escape this crazy woman who calls herself my godmother

Not all Slytherins are bad

I trust Severus, he is a good man

My mum trusted Severus, he was her friend

Marlene lies, she can’t be trusted.

I must get away, and remember this

Please Severus, find me soon!

He let the ink dry, the stuffed the paper into his pillow, where it would crackle when he lay down, reminding him that it was there. He figured he would look at it every night before he went to bed and so remember what he needed to.

He put his head down and soon fell asleep.

In his dreams he heard the voice of the book again, calling him.

Child of prophecy, come to me.  You are the one destined to inherit me. 

I can’t! She’ll . . . she’ll kill me.

Not if she does not know you are there. Come to me when the clock chimes three AM.  There are things you must learn and only a limited time in which to do so.

Can you help me escape?

Come and find out.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Harry woke and felt a little bit better than before, though he was still tender.  He recalled the strange yet familiar voice in his dream, and he knew it was the book.  The book had called to him.  But had it been real or just a dream? He walked down to the dining room after checking his watch, it was almost seven.  As he passed the book sitting upon its pedestal, he thought he saw the emerald eye wink at him.  He concealed a smile.  He would return at 3 in the morning and see what the book wanted. Whatever it wished couldn’t be half as bad as what Marlene wanted.

Dinner that night was baked chicken with thyme and rosemary seasoning, mashed potatoes, and broccoli, plus small rolls with butter.  The only thing Harry really liked about being here was that the food was good, as good as the food at school.  But he didn’t drink the pumpkin juice, for he suddenly recalled that Marlene could put a potion into it.  He would wait and drink some water from the tap in the loo before going to bed.

After they had eaten the strawberry trifle, Marlene took Harry into the den and began regaling him with all sorts of stories about Quidditch games James had played in and won, and pranks he had played with Sirius, and the rest of the Marauders.  Harry would have liked her to go into more detail about the Quidditch games, so he could maybe pick up some tips, but Marlene only knew things like how many goals James scored and not strategy. Some of the pranks were amusing, but Harry didn’t like the fact that Marlene said Slytherins were their usual targets.  At least when the twins pranked people, they did so to everyone, in all the Houses, even their own.

But Marlene seemed not to notice his disapproval, and continued her rant against Slytherins and Death Eaters.  Her words were pure vitriol, and they sent shivers down Harry’s spine. 

“Someday, I shall rid the world of the Death Eaters . . . all of them.  I have the power now to do it. I have all the ancient might of the Codex Magicka at my command.”

Harry guessed that was the name of the ancient book.  “Where did you get it?”

“From the Society of Ravens.”

“You’re a member?” Harry was in shock. Marlene was the last person he’d ever expect to belong to that!

“No, I was an initiate,” Marlene said, her lips pursed.  “They told me I was too unstable and they refused to let me advance further.”

Harry could definitely see why. Of course, he wasn’t about to say that and risk a second session with her bloody ruler.  So what he said instead was, “Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Yes, it rather was.  But no matter, I have what I wanted now anyway.  For all their knowledge and magic, they didn’t even think about countering an undead. Revenants are smarter than your average ghost, more powerful, and they can walk through walls and scan minds.” Marlene said smugly.

Harry didn’t know what she was talking about.  But whatever sort of creature Marlene liked he was sure he wouldn’t.  He changed the subject back to his parents, and asked if Lily had ever invented potions or spells.  Marlene told him that yes, his mother had invented a potion or two with that worm Snivellus, and she had invented several spells in charms and won Flitwick’s Most Ingenious Student Award. 

“How about my dad?”

“Your dad was excellent at Transfiguration. And he became an Animagus in his third year, which is exceedingly rare, since most students can’t even learn that spell until fifth year.  His form was a white stag.”

“That sounds neat!” Harry said excitedly.  He wondered if he would ever be able to change shape, and if so, what he would be.

“Indeed.  I wouldn’t doubt you’ve inherited his talent as well. What subjects do you excel at, Harry?”

“Umm . . . I’m good at Defense, and Potions and Charms. I still have a bit of trouble with Transfiguration and History of Magic, and I’m okay in Astronomy and pretty good in Herbology.” Harry said honestly.

Marlene’s face twisted into a grimace when she heard Harry say he was good at potions. She knew quite well who the potions teacher was at Hogwarts and she couldn’t stand when Snape the creep was shown in a good light. “You must have inherited your mother’s aptitude for potions then, because I can’t imagine Snape being a good teacher,” she sneered.  “Tell me, Harry, has he ever issued detention to you?”

“Yes.”

“And I’ll bet it was an unfair one, wasn’t it?” she probed, malice in her gaze.

“Uh, actually, it was—”

“That’s what I thought,” she declared, not letting Harry finish.  “Has he started spouting any propaganda yet about serving You-Know-Who? Or how magic is might? That’s their slogan, you know. If I were Dumbledore, I would sack Snape on the spot. It’s criminal, letting someone like that teach children!  How good of a teacher can he be, with his background?”

Harry stiffened, wanting to tell her off good. But his backside twinged, and he shut his mouth.  Severus would have told him that discretion was the better part of valor here.  Besides, he knew she would never believe him if he told her that Severus was a good teacher, if a very strict one.  So he said nothing, and let her draw her own conclusions, which she would have anyhow.

“Well, you won’t have to put up with his wretched instruction any longer, dear. Because now I shall teach you everything you need to know,” Marlene purred, she reached out a hand and trailed it through Harry’s hair.

He struggled not to flinch away in revulsion.  “Yes, Aunt Marlene,” he forced himself to say.

She carded his hair for a few more moments, looking at him with a sickly sweet smile.  “Poor child, you have had a hard life, but that shall change now that you live with me.  I shall help you on your way to greatness, Harry.  And be the mother you’ve never had.”

Harry felt like he wanted to vomit.  Her sudden mood changes made his skin crawl. One minute she was a raving lunatic and the next she acted like she was all sweetness and light and concerned over his welfare.  It made Harry even more desperate to get away from here.  If only he knew where here was and how to escape without Marlene finding out.  But he forced himself to act pleased at her display of affection, smiling woodenly and saying thank you then looking at his feet.

Marlene laughed, a tinkling eerie sound, and said, “Oh, Harry! Have I embarrassed you? I forget, you boys aren’t as comfortable with affection as girls are.  But you are a son to be proud of, never doubt that.”

Harry wondered if now were a good time to ask where his wand was.  He would need it before he left.  “Umm . . . Aunt Marlene? When can I have my wand back?”

“When you need it for lessons.  You know you’re not allowed to use magic without adult permission outside of school,” she declared, frowning. 

Harry almost choked at the ridiculousness of that statement.  First she claimed she wanted to tutor him herself, then she acted like she still had to follow Hogwarts rules, even though she didn’t want him going to Hogwarts! He wished he knew how that made sense.  Maybe it only made sense to mad people. Perhaps when he visited the book, he could figure out where Marlene kept his wand.  He feigned a yawn and murmured, “I’m really tired, Aunt Marlene. I’m going to bed.”

“That’s fine, dear. You need all the sleep you can get. Good night, Harry.” She pressed her cool dry lips to his forehead.

Harry froze.  When she released him, he said a quick good night and scurried down the hall.  He entered the bathroom and spent the next five minutes scrubbing his face ad trying to control the shivers that wracked him. 

He crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, praying that she wouldn’t come in to check on him.  He carefully reached under his pillow and read the list of things he’d composed to remind him of himself just in case she tried to make him forget.  Then he slid the paper back inside and buried his face in the pillow.

He feared he would never sleep, but then he found his eyes closing, and the next time he opened them, it was because he heard the clock in the den chiming three o’clock. 

He cautiously slipped from the bed and opened the door. The only light was a dim bulb in the ceiling, just enough to light his way to the loo.  But it was enough for him to see to make his way to the den.  Before entering, he peered around the corner, half-expecting to see Marlene lurking in her nightgown holding a paddle.  But there was no sign of her and the book seemed to glow in the moonlight streaming in from the double window. 

Harry approached, and his fingers closed about the cover.  He felt a quiver of power race through him as the book stirred and woke. Good. You are here at last. 

I am, Harry answered silently.  Can you help me get out of here?

Not directly. I am only parchment and ink, I don’t have legs or wings. 

You’ve got magic though.  Loads of it.  Mad Marlene thinks you’re going to give her the power to annihilate the Death Eaters.

She is very mistaken. I call no mad witch mistress. I would put no power in the hands of the insane, and she has a personality disorder.

Tell me about it.  One minute she’s blistering my bum over touching something I had no idea  I wasn’t allowed to touch and the next she’s calling me her son and petting me like the family dog. Ugh!

He felt a sudden surge of something rather like sympathy from the book. I am sorry you had to endure that.  It is not meet for her to treat you so.  Fear not, youngling, I shall teach you what you need to know to slip her leash. And all I ask in return is that you take me with you when you leave.   

Thanks! I can do that.  Uh, am I gonna need my wand? Because I don’t know where she hid it.

No. Because the power is within you, little one.  You are a wielder of the Old Magic, and as such you possess powers that ordinary wizards do not. 

I do? Skull always said I did, but . . .what are they?

One is instinctive, the ability to sense both good and evil in a person. The other . . . is the ability to project your spirit out of your body and into the ether between this world and the next.  Some call it astral projection.

Umm . . . and how will that help me?

Once you learn how to do it properly, you can escape any attempt to control your mind and you may also lead someone or something to you.  

How, when I don’t even know where I am?

Your actual location is irrelevant. Your spirit self will always be bound to your body, and it always knows the way back.  Unless you spend too long out of your body and then the connection will fade and if that happens, you will die.