“Sooo… did anybody ever figure out what’s behind the three-headed dog?” Theo asked one day when the Slythindors were hanging out in the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione frowned. “No. It’s like Nicolas Flamel doesn’t even exist.”

“Or he’s just not famous enough to show up in a book,” Blaise said, shrugging.

Hermione’s face brightened. “That could be it!” Apparently having the information simply not available was preferable to simply not being able to find it, for her.

“He’s important enough that Hagrid was hiding something, though,” Harry pointed out thoughtfully. “And didn’t you say you recognized the name?”

“One way to find out,” Blaise said, smiling crookedly.

“Oh?” Harry asked politely, “and that would be-?”

“It’s easy,” Blaise said, still smiling. “We go down the trapdoor where the dog is, find what he’s guarding, and then go from there, if we still care.”

“AWESOME!” Theo enthused. “I'm in!”

Hermione’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Are you crazy? Easy?!”

“Alright, maybe not,” Blaise admitted, grinning recklessly. “But Hermione, I’m surprised at you. I thought you’d jump at the chance to do a little first-hand research.”

Hermione shot him a glare. “This is the stupidest plan either of you have come up with in the time I’ve known you. And that includes April Fools.”

“Hey, this is Blaise's plan. And April Fools was awesome,” Harry pointed out. “Totally worth it, even for me.”

“And you really think this will be worth it, too, Harry?” she challenged him.

Three-headed dog? Trying to get to something that Dumbledore is trying to guard? Snape would kill him. I said I’d try to be good. But then that didn’t mean that he always had to do exactly what Snape wanted him to do, did it? He was the man’s…son. His son. And Snape had said that he was his father regardless…So I’m going to take advantage of that? The adventure sounded like fun, but- God, he'll have a heart attack.

“No,” Harry finally said. “Sorry guys, but I won't do that to Snape.”

“No?” Blaise asked him, “come on! It'll be awesome!”

“And dangerous, and stupid, and get me grounded for the rest of my life,” Harry said, surprised that Blaise had challenged him on it.

“Sounds like fun,” Blaise countered. His voice had an edge, and Harry looked up at him sharply.

“What's up with you?” he found himself asking. “You're not usually this reckless.”

Blaise pulled back angrily. “You don't have to come if you don't want to.”

“You think I'm going to stand back and let you get killed?” Harry asked.

“Unless you're going to tell on us,” Blaise countered.

Harry drew back, trying to read Blaise's eyes. What the hell is going on? “Why are you angry?” Harry asked.

“I'm not,” Blaise said, eyes still angry. “You can come with if you want, or not. I'm just saying that I'm going. You don't have to get involved if you don't want to.”

“Like hell I don't!” Harry said. “We're in this shit together, remember?”

“It’s not like the rest of us aren’t going to be in trouble if we get caught,” Theo said. “But we’re good at not getting caught.”

“Funny how our recent record doesn’t reflect that,” Blaise said, abruptly switching off the anger.

“I am never going to forgive you for this, guys,” Hermione said. “I was never this stupid before I got involved with you.”

“Stupidity in the name of research and learning,” Blaise said, more relaxed than before. “Sounds just like you, actually.”

“Hmmph,” Hermione said.

“Well if she’s in, I am,” Ron said.

I’m eleven years old. I’m supposed to get in trouble, Harry reasoned. Trouble was fun. Well…usually. What the hell do I do? It wasn't like he could tell on his friends, after all. He'd never forgive himself. “Yeah, all right,” Harry finally said. “I’m in. If only to keep the rest of you alive.” What the hell was up with Blaise, though?

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry moved quietly, opening the medicine cabinet to pull out the sleepy juice. He felt bad, but he was the only one that could possibly get past the wards in Snape’s quarters. My home, Harry reminded himself. Snape seemed determined enough to drill that into him, reminding him every time he referred to them as Snape’s. Harry’s stomach churned guiltily, but he grabbed the bottle and left without incident.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Master Harry, sir?” Kallie asked him sleepily from the doorway to the kitchen. “What is you doing here? Is you needing something, sir?”

“Umm…yeah, Kallie,” Harry said, feeling the guilt churn in his stomach again. “Could you get me some raw meat? Like ground beef, maybe?”

Kallie looked at him suspiciously, suddenly much more awake. “Master is up to something,” she said, frowning and putting her hands on her hips.

He never lied to Kallie. “Err…yeah,” he agreed. “You gonna tell Dad?”

Kallie frowned deeper. “I tells Master Snape is better, Master Harry sir. Is safer.”

“But?” Harry asked hopefully.

“But Kallie is not wanting Master Harry to be sad, sir.”

Harry frowned. “I’m not sad.”

“Master is sad when Master Snape is mad,” Kallie explained.

“I won’t get caught,” Harry said confidently. There is a species of flying pig native to Great Britain, after all.

“And Master Snape is mad and sad when Master is getting hurt. Please do not be getting hurt, Master Harry, sir.”

Harry smiled a little. “I’ll do my best, Kallie,” he promised.

“Doing your best is not doing stupid things in the first place, Master Harry, sir,” Kallie said, hands on her hips.

“But then I wouldn’t have any fun, Kallie,” Harry said. “And I’ll be with Blaise and ‘Mione and Theo and Ron. I’ll be fine. Please don’t tell?”

“Hmmph,” Kallie said. “Kallie is not telling. But Kallie is not liking it. Master Harry is being careful, yes?”

“Yes, Kallie,” Harry answered guiltily. Maybe he did lie to Kallie, sometimes. Sort of. I’ll be careful. I’ll just be carefully doing something enormously stupid and dangerous. But then, as Ron had said, how bad could it be? All they had to do was drug a dog and go down a trapdoor. No problem.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Ready, Harry?” Blaise whispered. Harry nodded. “Okay three, two…one!” He threw open the door, and Harry threw in the pile of drugged meat.

“How fast does it act?” Ron asked.

“Five minutes?” Harry guessed.

“You don’t know?” Hermione asked him.

“Hey, I just got it,” Harry protested. “Nobody said I was supposed to research it. Research is your job.”

Hermione just rolled her eyes and sighed, as if it was a great imposition to be working with him.

“Shhh,” Blaise cautioned them.

“Nobody’s up here,” Ron pointed out.

“You wanna tell Filch that?” Harry asked.

Ron gulped. “Good point.”

Five minutes later, they eased the door open to find the dog snoring loudly, one big paw blocking the entrance to the trapdoor.

“Great,” Theo said. “We have tamed the savage beast. Now all we have to do is move the giant paw without waking it.”

“That’s all?!” Ron protested. “Are you crazy?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Blaise asked.

“We’re all crazy,” Harry hissed, finding himself just wanting to get this over with. “Now who’s moving the paw?”

Blaise pulled out a coin. “Heads it’s Slytherins, tails, Gryffindors.” The coin showed tails, and Ron and Hermione grimly set to work shoving the paw off the trapdoor. As soon as it was far enough, Blaise opened the trapdoor.

“Doesn’t look deep,” he said. “But there’s something there. I can't quite- Theo!”

“Nothing bad,” Theo said cheerfully from a few feet down. “Just some plant.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, the other four jumped in and away from the giant dog.

“Well that was easy,” Theo commented.

“You don’t think it was a little too easy?” Hermione asked, her voice a little high.

“No, easy is good,” Blaise said conversationally. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I don’t know if the rest of you noticed but this is Devil’s Snare we’re sitting on,” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

“Is it really?” Theo said cheerfully. “Perhaps this all was too easy, then.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, feeling the tendrils underneath him start to move. “What’s it doing?”

“Trying to strangle us,” Blaise said calmly. “Theo’s ‘just some plant’ turns out to be homicidal. It’s got one of my hands, come to think of it.”

“Oh, fuck. Thanks a lot, Theo,” Harry said, feeling one tendril of the plant wrap around his waist.

“Just relax,” Hermione said, relaxing her muscles as the plant wrapped a huge tendril around her legs.

“RELAX?” Ron asked, voice high as he tried to prevent the plant from trapping one of his arms. “You want us to relax? You just said it was trying to strangle us!”

“Blaise!” Hermione protested.

“Hey, I didn’t know he would panic! What works other than relaxing? I don’t think the brave Gryffindor’s going to hold up.” A shriek from Ron confirmed his thinking.

“Umm…” Hermione said. “It was in Herbology…”

“Quickly, Hermione!” Blaise said.

“I’m trying! Umm…Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare…likes the dark and the damp…”

“So then it doesn’t like light? Or fire?” Blaise suggested.

“Sunlight or fire,” Hermione said, brightening even as the plant continued to wrap up her legs. “Either one. Sprout said fire works best, but what if I burn one of us?”

“Do you know one for sunlight, then?” Blaise asked patiently, body stiffening as a larger tendril wrapped itself around his chest.

“Err….”

“I got it,” Harry said, remembering his light-ball. Picturing the brightness and warmth of the sun on his skin, he held up one of his hands and concentrated on the air just beyond his fingertips. Light. Sunlight. Like in spring.

In seconds, the room was ablaze in light, and the plant was shrinking frantically away from it, like a giant octopus with far too many tentacles and no head.

All five Slythindors just sat and breathed for a bit, and it was Blaise that finally spoke.

“Hey Theo, you ever heard the phrase, ‘look before you leap’?”

“Nope!” Theo said cheerfully.

Blaise shut his eyes. “Yeah, didn’t figure.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“All yours, Harry,” Blaise said, looking up at the flying keys.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Harry retorted, starting to smile a little. This one looked like it could be fun. He knew he would regret this adventure, before long, but for the moment-

“They’re all going to try to eat you,” Blaise said.

“Probably,” Harry agreed. “Wish me luck!” Grabbing a broomstick, he hauled himself onto the broom before kicking off into the air.

Yup, trying to eat me, he thought, whizzing away as all of the keys immediately headed for him. They hurt when they collided, too, but it wasn’t the first time Harry’d played Quiddich in unpleasant conditions, and soon he’d caught the key and thrown it to Ron. Ron handed it quickly to Blaise, who unlocked and opened the door just as Harry came around again, pursued by all the keys. He flew straight through, and breathed out in relief as he heard the door slam behind him.

Breathing hard, he landed by his friends.

“Three down, who-knows-how-many to go,” Theo announced cheerfully.

“You guys…think this may’ve been a bad idea?” Hermione tried tentatively.

Harry was still panting, but Theo answered cheerfully. “Got a plan for climbing back through?” he asked her.

“Not really,” Hermione admitted.

“Well, then, it was a fabulous idea,” Theo said. “Let’s keep going!”

“You have a happy nature,” Ron said, looking slightly green as he surveyed the room in front of them.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked him.

“Chess,” Ron said horribly. “Wizard’s chess.”

Looking out at the room with him, Harry realized Ron was right – they were standing in front of a giant chessboard.

“Ideas, Ron?” Blaise asked.

“ME?!” Ron asked, horrified. “What about you? You play, too!”

“Yeah, but you’re better than me,” Blaise said.

“I am not!”

“And you win every time because…?”

“I cheat, obviously,” Ron said.

Blaise scoffed and put his nose in the air. “There’s no way you cheat,” he said. “I would notice.”

“Well then you let me win!” Ron argued.

Blaise just gave him a look, and Ron gave in. “Fine. Well, obviously we’ve got to play the game,” he said. “But- we’ll get taken, and then-“ he trailed off.

Blaise shook his head. “Nope. We’ll be fine. We just have to choose which pieces to play.”

Ron looked at him and blinked. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Wouldn’t’ve thought of that.”

“Slytherin,” Blaise pointed out.

“I don’t get it,” Hermione said. “Why does it matter which pieces we play?”

“Central pawns nearly always get taken,” Blaise explained. “And knights and bishops, frequently, too. We should be the pieces that don’t get taken as often – the Queen, King, and – hmm…” he trailed off, thinking.

“Castles,” Ron said. “Or maybe other pawns, but I think castles are probably best.”

“There are five of us, though,” Harry pointed out, finally getting into their reasoning. “Somebody’ll have to be something else.”

“Queenside rook's pawn, maybe,” Ron said thoughtfully.

“Do we have to all be pieces?” Theo asked. “What if just one of us plays the King? Then we won’t lose anybody, unless we lose the whole game, right?”

Ron and Blaise stared at him. “Right,” Blaise finally said, sounding surprised.

“Brilliant,” Ron said, smiling. “So, who’s the King?”

“I am,” Blaise said immediately. “We’ll get in least trouble if I’m hurt, rather than any of you.”

Harry stared at him for a second, and remembered Halloween. Blaise had only gotten in any trouble at all because Snape had been mad.

“Your folks really won’t be mad about this?” Ron asked.

“Nope, not at all,” Blaise said, a strange darkness in his eyes. Then he smiled, and the look was gone. “They’ll probably see it as good training, or something.”

“Bloody hell,” Ron said. “I wish I’d get off that easy!”

“Yeah,” Blaise said, still grinning. “I get to do crazy shit like this and not get in trouble. Long as the rest of you don’t get hurt, anyway.”

Troubled, but unsure why, Harry met Blaise’s eyes, and the other boy’s smile faded. “It’s all right,” Blaise said. “Truly. I’ll explain later.” When Harry just frowned deeper, Blaise turned away from him and took the place of the black king.

“Don’t lose,” he told Ron.

Ron nodded nervously.

White moved pawn E4, and the game began.

If we lose, Blaise dies, Harry thought, mouth dry. Fuck. What are we even doing here?

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Four down…” Hermione started.

“…who-knows-how-many-to-go,” Ron said, grinning triumphantly. “Next one’s yours, Blaise. You’re slacking.”

“Oh, yeah, slacking,” Blaise said. “Nevermind the whole offering up my life back there.”

“Oh, come on,” Ron said, still grinning. “It wasn’t like I was going to lose.” When everybody glared at him, he flushed. “Well not with you at stake, anyway,” he said.

Blaise grinned. “Good to know.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Oh yey,” Theo said, voice shaking just a touch. “More trolls. I like trolls.”

“Glad you do,” Blaise said, looking sick as the lumbering being turned towards them. “I find I'm not much of a fan.”

“But we made such good friends with the last one,” Hermione contributed, backing along the wall towards the other end of the room.

“We're dead,” Harry said, following her. “If the troll doesn't kill us, Dad definitely will. What the hell are we doing?”

“You called him Dad!” Theo exclaimed happily. His call drew the attention of the troll, who raised his club deceptively slowly.

“Theo, move!” Blaise yelled as the club came down. He needn't have bothered, though – Theo moved just in time, and then they were all behind the troll and casting at once.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Ron called, ripping the club from the troll's grasp. The troll looked up at the flying club, and reached for it again. Harry grabbed the club in imaginary hands and lifted it higher. The troll looked confused.

“Good thing these things are so dumb,” Theo commented just before diving again as the troll abandoned his club and made a swipe at him with his hands.

“Over here!” Hermione called, waving her arms in the air. The troll abandoned Theo to head towards her.

The club was heavy. Hold, hold, hold, Harry chanted in his head.

“Harry!” Blaise shouted, getting his attention. “Would you kill it already!”

“I thought you were going to!” he shouted back. The club dipped a foot as his attention wavered.

“I killed it last time, and you've already got his club! It's your turn, Dumbass!”

“Dumbass, yourself! You're the one that brought us here!” Harry called, gripping the heavy club again and swiping it clumsily towards the troll's head. He missed.

“Sectum sempra!” Blaise cast quickly. A gash opened on the troll's arm, raising a bellow. The troll started heading for him.

Sweating, Harry swung again with the massive club, managing to clip the side of the troll's head with it.

Fuck, not hard enough, he thought. He tried to lift it again, but then the troll grabbed hold of it, and he found he couldn't tug it free.

“Blaise!” he shouted.

“Sectum sempra!” This time the gash opened in the side of the trolls neck, and blood sprayed.

“Well done, Hermione!” Blaise said, jubilant as the troll started to sway.

Hermione cast Sectum Sempra? Harry thought.

“It's not dead yet!” Ron shouted.

“Nobody get trapped under it!” Theo said urgently.

Distracted by its own injury, the troll just stood stupidly for a second before falling to its knees, and then to the floor.

“Five down, who-knows-how-many to go,” Harry said wearily.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Woah!” Harry heard Ron say, startled as the flames roared up behind him. “Great. Now we really can't go back.”

“Hold on,” Hermione said. “Look at the riddle. One of the potions will let you go back.”

“This one's yours, Hermione,” Blaise said. “I don't do logic puzzles.”

“Alright,” Hermione agreed readily. “But be quiet and let me think.”

They all shut up, slumping to the floor against the wall to rest, and soon enough they heard a shout.

“I've got it!” Hermione said excitedly. “Whoever's going forward needs to drink this one.” She
pointed to an unremarkable looking potions bottle. “And we can get back through using this one here.” She pointed again.

“And it looks like there's only enough for two of us to go the rest of the way through,” Blaise said. “And only two back.”

“So, what're we going to do, abandon somebody in here?” Ron asked.

“Not happening!” Harry said urgently.

“Definitely,” Hermione said. “Three'll have to wait in here, then.”

Blaise shrugged. “Alright. So who's going?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You and Harry, obviously. It was your idea.”

“Definitely Blaise,” Harry agreed. “He came up with this plan.”

“And you,” Blaise told him. “You're the one whose ass is on the line for this.”

“Like Theo's isn't?” Harry asked. “You know the first thing Snape'll do is call parents.”

Blaise blanched unexpectedly. What'd I say? Harry wondered.

“I thought your parents didn't care, last time?” he asked. “What's up, now?”

Once again, Blaise's expression smoothed out. “Nothing,” he said. “They still won't care.”

This time Harry wasn't fooled, and as the other three continued to discuss options, he turned to meet Blaise's eyes and asked more quietly, “You sure, man?”

“I'm sure. Back off,” Blaise told him, parroting back the phrase Harry had used so frequently.

Harry held his gaze for a moment before finally looking away. “Okay,” he said quietly. “It's only fair, I guess.”

“We won't get caught anyway,” Blaise said. “It's the middle of the night. If nobody caught us going in, they're not going to catch us, now.”

“Sure,” Harry said. He didn't bother to repeat what they all knew – they always got caught, somehow. Except when I went into the Forbidden Forest, he reminded himself. He'd even left the castle grounds, and still not been caught. This could be like that.

“We're agreed,” Hermione told them suddenly, looking up from her conversation with Theo and Ron. “You two, go.”

“What about you?” Blaise asked her. “You're the one that was researching this in the first place.”

“With all of the rest of you, and you and Theo and Ron did the chess, and Harry took care of the dog and the keys, and you and Harry and I dealt with the plant, and we all fought the troll!” Hermione said. “It was a group effort, and you'll be way more useful if there's a problem later than I will.”

“You think I'm better in a duel than you, 'mione?” Blaise said. “That's not strictly-”

“Go!” Hermione insisted. “You can do me a favor later, just go before the night's over!”

“Go, Blaise.” Harry said, just wanting to end the argument and get out as soon as possible. “You and Hermione. I'm not interested.”

“You don't want to know what it is?” Blaise asked. “It's got to be something cool, or it wouldn't have all these protections.

Harry smiled wanly. Why is Blaise so danger-happy, all of a sudden? he wondered. “It's fine,” he said. “You two can tell me all about it.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Well this is...anticlimactic,” Hermione said, holding a piece of shiny rock in her hand. “What is this thing?”

“Pretty rock,” Blaise commented.

“Very expensive, unique, pretty rock,” a silky, overly-calm voice said out of nowhere. “The only one of its kind in the world, in fact. Maybe even worth the trouble you went to to get it, if you knew what it was.”

Oh, fuck, Blaise thought, turning towards the speaker. Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape were standing right on the opposite side of the room.

“I apologize, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “It seems you were correct.” He turned to Blaise and Hermione. “Your friends are in the other chamber, I believe?” he asked them.

“Uh...yeah,” Blaise said, looking directly at Snape, who met his gaze coldly. “There was only enough potion-”

“For two,” Dumbledore finished for him. “Of course. And you wouldn't leave one behind.”

“Harry's fine,” Blaise said urgently. “We all are.”

Snape nodded, but his facial expression didn't change.

Harry didn't want to go, Blaise remembered with a pang of guilt. He'd made him. Fuck, what am I doing? “Harry didn't want to come, sir,” he heard himself saying. “It was my fault.”

Once again, Snape just nodded shortly, barely seeming to have heard him.

“Minerva, would you bring Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasely to the hospital wing? I will accompany Mr. Zabini and Mr. Nott myself. Severus-”

“I will take my son, thank you,” Snape said, slightly emphasizing the word son.

“He really didn't want to go, sir,” Blaise tried again.

“And yet he did, Mr. Zabini,” Snape finally answered.

His blank tone put Blaise in a mild panic. “Because I was going, and he didn't want to let me go alone!” he protested. “You told me before that I could be responsible for others' actions, why not now?”

“I am not going to harm Harry, Zabini,” Snape finally told him. “I would worry about yourself, at the moment.”

Shit, Blaise remembered suddenly. If Snape floo called his uncle- he won't, Blaise told himself. He knows they won't care, so he won't bother.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Harry looked up suddenly as the flames leading forward to wherever Blaise and Hermione had gone suddenly disappeared. An instant later, he knew why, as Blaise and Hermione came back through, followed closely by Dumbledore, McGonagall, and finally Snape. The man's face was entirely blank. When the man found Harry's eyes, Harry swallowed and walked forward silently to stand in front of his – father.

For a moment, Snape just stared at him, but then one hand came up to grip Harry's chin and turn his face slightly to the side. The other brushed gentle fingers over Harry's cheek, and Harry winced away, startled to find that it hurt, despite the gentleness in the man's touch.

The man's expression at Harry's wince hurt worse. The man would've been panicked and worried. Harry knew that already. But Snape had almost winced with Harry, and once again he was reminded of just how much Snape hated seeing him hurt. It was like the man took it personally. And this time Harry hadn't even put himself in danger for a reason. Yeah, I did. I couldn't let Blaise go in alone, could I?

McGonagall and Dumbledore were quickly organizing the other four to leave the chamber, but Snape still didn't say anything. When everyone started to move, Theo and Ron talking in whispers but Hermione and Blaise entirely silent, Snape put a hand on the back of Harry's neck and pushed him to follow. When they got to the surface, though, Snape simply spoke briefly to Blaise and Theo before steering Harry away from them and down to the 'dungeons' of the castle.

Harry had a strange sense of deja vu, walking silently down to Snape's quarters in the middle of the night, a hand attached firmly to the back of his neck as if without it he'd do something stupid. The feeling was somewhat comforting, actually – he'd survived the last time more-or-less intact. Snape had stayed.

He felt a vague panic rise at the thought. What if- but no, Snape would stay. Snape had always stayed. You cannot drive me off. I care about you, and that is it, and there is nothing you can do about it. It looked like he'd continue to try, though, almost despite himself. Bloody hell. Snape's face was so set. Blank, the way it always was when Snape was most upset. And I've turned into a total pussy. Just the term before he hadn't given a damn what Snape did or thought as long as the man kept his proper distance. Now – If only he would speak.

When they reached Snape's quarters, Harry found himself deposited on the couch as Snape disappeared into his potions storage room. As before, Snape came back bearing a pot of bright blue bruise balm. Of course, Harry thought, resigned. I've got a bruise. He can't possibly yell at me, I might die of the bruise.

“I'm fine,” Harry said.

“Shirt off, please,” Snape answered him shortly, sitting next to him on the couch.

Slightly embarrassed, Harry pulled his shirt over his head to reveal his torso, chest and arms – all peppered with little bruises. Oh yeah, Harry remembered. The keys.

Snape was frowning at him. “Keys,” Harry explained softly. Snape nodded, face set. When he opened the balm and reached for Harry's face, Harry pulled back.

“I'm fine,” he said again. Snape ignored him, just leaning forward to grip Harry's chin and turn his head so he could spread the balm on his cheek. Once again, Harry pulled back sharply, breaking the contact.

“Would you just fucking yell at me?” Harry snapped.

Snape sat back, staring at him. “Would you prefer that?”

Maybe, Harry realized. He hated it when Snape was so nice when he was so mad. The last thing Harry wanted at times like this was a reminder of how much Snape cared for him. He was a horrible son. “Just – I'm fine, okay?” he said more softly. “I'll heal on my own.”

“And as your father I'm supposed to just accept that?” Snape asked him.

“Yes,” Harry said stubbornly.

“No,” Snape said simply. “Now stay put, please.”

Once again he reached out, and once again Harry pulled back. This time the man's eyebrows snapped together in a fierce scowl. “You can be sure that I will yell at you, and probably ground you et cetera, but first I am going to care for your bruises, and you are going to stay. put.”

His tone was sharp, and this time Harry didn't pull back. He was stiff, though, and Snape noticed.

“What's wrong?” the man asked finally, spreading balm gently over the cut on his cheek.

“You're mad at me,” Harry finally told him.

Snape just kept spreading, fingers careful. “Yes, and-?”

“So why are you being nice to me?” he asked him.

Severus stared at the boy, suddenly struck with the memory of sitting on this same couch with him, just after Harry'd tried to burn down his office. Harry had wanted to treat his own face, rather than let Severus do it. He'd started to cry, even.

“Why does that bother you?” he asked finally.

“I just don't know what to expect from you!” Harry told him. “You're mad, why won't you just be mad? Why do you have to pretend like you're not? I was horrible, why won't you just treat me like I deserve?” He heard his voice crack, and looked away from Snape, once again pulling away from the hand that was so gently treating his face.

“And what is it that you deserve, Harry?” Severus asked him sharply.

Harry stared at him, suddenly realizing what he'd said, what it sounded like. “I- I don't know,” he said, knowing he was lying. He knew exactly what he deserved. Snape'd never give it to him, though. He'd be horrified if he knew Harry still thought that way.

“I have told you that I will not hit you, Harry,” Snape said, voice still sharp. “Did you think I would deny you healing, when you need it?”

“But I don't need it,” Harry said. “I'll heal on my own, just fine. They're just bruises.”

“They'll get worse, first,” Snape pointed out, “and there's no reason to have you in pain.”

“But-” Harry gave up. This was just one of those 'Snape' things that just didn't make sense. It would never occur to the man that Harry deserved the bruises. He probably wouldn't agree even if Harry explained it to him. He'd probably just get mad at the Dursleys. Somehow it would still be less stressful, though, if Snape would just – punish him and get it over with. As it was, Harry kept waiting for him to blow up, despite knowing that he never would. Snape didn't blow up, at least not at Harry. The angriest he ever got was at anybody who hurt Harry. Which didn't make matters any better.

“Could you just yell at me first, and then heal me?” he finally asked.

“I am not going to yell at you,” Snape said.

“You did last time,” Harry told him.

Snape sighed. “True. I will endeavor not to yell at you.”

“So?” Harry asked, wanting an answer to his previous question.

Snape gave him a long look. “Would you cooperate with me, then?” he asked him finally.

Harry nodded. “Please?”

“You want me to scold you?” Snape clarified.

Harry scowled at him. “No, but you're going to.”

Snape scowled right back. “Yes, I am, because that you do deserve. What did you think you were doing?”

What to say? He didn't want to get Blaise in trouble, but it had been his idea... “I don't know...” Harry said hesitantly.

Snape's scowl deepened. “Very well, I'll ask in another manner. Your friend Blaise said it was his fault, and that you didn't want to go. What did he mean?”

“I said I wouldn't go,” Harry told him finally, “but then Blaise said he'd go anyway. I couldn't just let him go alone!”

“And so you just followed him into the single most dangerous area of the school for absolutely no reason, and dragged three others along with you?”

“I knew it was stupid!” Harry said. “And Blaise isn't usually that stupid, but he was going! What was I supposed to do?”

“What did I tell you the last time you went running off after somebody?”

“I couldn't tell on him!” Harry protested, raising his voice. “And I don't know what's up with him! He was being weird.”

“All the more reason to tell me, Harry! You think he'd be in more trouble than now?”

“Maybe I didn't think you'd care!” Harry shouted finally.

“Of course I'd care!”

“You don't care now!”

Severus paused, staring at his son, and took a deep breath. “Right now, no. Right now, I only care about you. But I have a responsibility to all of the students of this school, and besides that Blaise is a friend of yours. I would not have ignored your concern. Right now, however, I am faced with the fact that you nearly got yourself killed. Again. And this time, even you cannot say you had a real reason for it. Why would you do that, Harry? Even you have said it was stupid.”

“I- I didn't know it would be that bad,” Harry explained hesitantly. “At first, we just thought the dog was guarding something. We just wanted to know what it was. And then Hagrid was being all mysterious about it, so we wanted to know even more. And then Blaise said we should go see. We- we drugged the dog because we knew he was dangerous, but we really didn't know there'd be anything else, honest.”

Severus stared at him. “And you didn't stop, once you got out of the Devil's Snare?”

“Umm...” Harry said. “No.”

“So then we could say that, though you didn't expect the next challenges, precisely, you took them on willingly.”

Harry swallowed. It does sound like that, doesn't it? “I-it was the keys,” he defended. “They weren't dangerous, really. A little painful, but they weren't going to kill me.”

“And the wizard's chess? And the troll?” Snape asked patiently. “Were they 'not going to kill you'? You could have stopped that chess game at any time.”

Harry winced. “I- I guess we... kind of forgot that we didn't have to get through,” he said finally. “It was just like, okay, we lived through that one, now on to the next. And the chess wasn't that bad, once we figured out that Blaise could be the king, and then nobody would get hurt unless we actually lost. And the pieces don't always 'kill' the king, anyway...”

It was weak, he knew, and Snape frowned at him. “Try again,” he said. “Actually, don't. I don't want to hear what you would come up with to excuse the troll.”

“L-like I said,” Harry said anyway. “We kind of forgot that it wasn't essential; that we could stop. And anyway we kind of did have to get through – there was no way to get back the way we came, a-and-”

“and you didn't want to get caught,” Snape finished for him. “Which you certainly would have been had you gotten stuck in the middle of the chamber.”

Unsure what to say, Harry just nodded.

Snape stared into his eyes, and Harry finally looked away. He could see it when Snape crouched down in front of him, but he didn't look back.

“Look at me, Harry.”

Oh, he hated that request. Nonetheless, he obeyed, meeting Snape's serious black eyes reluctantly. “Do not ever put yourself in more danger out of fear of my anger, do you understand me?” Snape asked him, eyes intense. “There is no reason for you to fear me more than a troll.”

“Says you,” Harry told him, half joking and half serious.

It was the seriousness that Snape answered, though. “That's going to take awhile, isn't it?” he asked softly. Harry looked away again, unable to bear the gentle look in his eyes.

“I'm not – I'm not scared of you,” he said quietly. “It's not that, it's just-” he paused, and tried again. “You can fight a troll,” he finally managed. “Trolls have never actually hurt me before.”

Snape sighed, and nodded. “Alright,” he said. “But try. I am angry. You know what it's like when I'm angry, and I am sure it is not pleasant for you, as I do not intend for it to be so. But I will never, ever, hurt you, Harry. You are my son. I- love you. That is why I get angry.”

“I - I know, Dad,” Harry said finally. The last word was hard to say, still, but he was trying. “I'm sorry.”

Snape smiled, just a little. He always did when Harry managed to call him that. “I know,” he said. “I know you are.”

“But I'm always sorry,” Harry finished for him, ashamed.

“You cannot be perfect, Harry,” Snape told him. “If you could, you wouldn't need me. I would prefer, however, if you would try.”

I'll try to be good, Harry remembered, swallowing around a lump that suddenly appeared in his throat at the words. “I do try,” he protested weakly. “I- I just suck at it, is all.”

To his surprise, Snape smiled a little, almost sadly. “You do try,” he agreed. “That is what is so frustrating.”

Harry didn't really know what to say to that, and so just stayed silent, avoiding Snape's gaze.

Snape's voice when he spoke had regained its seriousness. “If you continue in this way, Harry, you will be killed. This world is not safe for you. There will always be more dangers out there than I can protect you from. You have survived so far on phenomenal luck. Do not think because you have survived this long, that you cannot be killed. And do not ever think that I prefer you obedient to alive. I would do- quite literally anything to keep you safe. I believe you know that, by now.”

Harry nodded a little, subdued.

“Good. Now you got caught by the school, this time, in addition to by me. That meeting will be tomorrow. You will probably be suspended and I won't even contest it. But that is irrelevant at the moment. The school will cover being up in the middle of the night in a part of the castle that is forbidden to you, but I have my own rules about what my son may and may not do. And you have put yourself in unnecessary danger no fewer than six times tonight.”

Harry moved to interrupt, but Snape's expression blackened. “Six, Harry. You may think those keys would not have harmed you, but you could easily have fallen from the broom. It was the keys' programmed goal to knock you off.”

“But the dog wasn't any more dangerous than things we've done in class!” Harry protested. “We drugged him! And the plant was unintentional – we just fell on top of it!”

“Would you like me to add stealing potions to the total, then?” Snape asked him “And my own rules about getting up at night? How about the fact that you had no idea how many trials you were going to face, and you continued anyway?”

“But-”

“And do you honestly think arguing with me is going to help your case at this point, Mr. Potter?”

“But-”

“Harry James.”

Harry closed his mouth. It was only about the third time Snape had called him that, and he was pretty certain at this point that it did not indicate good things for him. For one thing, the man hadn't liked his father.

“I had considered putting you under the same restrictions as when you tried to burn down my office-”

Harry gave a little yelp of protest, horrified.

“ - but I do realize that this was not quite as intentional as that,” Snape continued, “and that last time you were not also going to suffer the school's censure. As such, I will remove the Quiddich restriction. Other than that, same deal. You are here, all day, every day for the next two weeks. In addition, you will have two hours of detention with me every night. This is strictly in addition to whatever the school assigns. As to the school- I should let you know now that being suspended will not be a vacation. I will find something for you to do with the time. Do you understand?”

Harry swallowed hard, trying to get his mind around it. The Quiddich concession was a relief, but the rest-. He swallowed again, trying to fight back tears so Snape wouldn't see. Once again, though, he wouldn't ask Snape to lighten it. He had too much pride, and anyway it wouldn't help.

Snape regarded him seriously. “I don't like this much more than you do, Harry. But you give me very little choice. I cannot allow you to continue in this fashion.”

Harry nodded a little, avoiding the man's gaze and trying not to be mad at him. He wanted to be, badly. He hadn't had any choice, not with Blaise rushing off into things, but he'd never really expected Snape to accept that. As Snape had said, he didn't care much about others, if Harry was in danger. Theo had said much the same about his father, before. “Blaise-” he finally said, though, needing his father to understand.

“I'll talk to him,” Snape said seriously.

Harry nodded, and found his lip trembling. Shit. He was going to cry. “M-may I be dismissed, sir?” he asked shakily.

“I still need to treat your bruises,” Snape answered, voice gentle as he stared into Harry's face.

Harry looked back at him, eyes pleading. He was going to cry. He was already losing that battle, and Snape was going to see him cry, and that was horrible. He once again tried to fight back the tears, but he felt the first start to slide down one cheek anyway. Before he could move to wipe it away, he was wrapped in strong arms, feeling his head pressed into his father's chest with one big hand. He still smells like potions, he noticed as his hands came up to grip Snape's robes. Even in the middle of the night. How gripping onto Snape this way was less humiliating than crying in front of the man he didn't know, but it was. And it was still the safest place on the entire planet, potions smell and all. He never wanted to let go, and held on even after he was done crying, as Snape's one hand remained on his head, and the other ran slowly up and down his back.

“I don't like you,” he finally said, voice muffled.

Snape sighed, and loosened his grip on Harry to look at him. “I know you don't. Come let me treat your bruises, please.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“You three,” Snape said, leaning over the desk at Blaise, Theo, and Harry the next morning, “are quite possibly the most reckless, foolhardy, and otherwise suicidal first-years I have had the pleasure of dealing with in all my time teaching at Hogwarts. I talked to Harry last night, so I know what he was thinking – if anything – but I have yet to hear from you two,” he continued menacingly. “So. Would you care to explain?”

To his surprise, Blaise raised his chin and spoke impudently. “Not particularly, sir.”

Theo gaped at his friend, and evidently decided to intervene. “We were curious, sir,” he said nervously. “We didn't know it would be that dangerous. Not after Harry drugged the dog and everything, anyway.” Seeming to realize what he'd let slip, he gave Harry wide eyes, but Harry shrugged back. Snape had already known, anyway.

“You. were. curious.,” Snape repeated, taking his attention off Blaise for a moment to glower at Theo. “And you did not remember what happened when you ran off after the last troll, Mr. Nott?”

Theo paled.

“And yet you figured 'curiosity' was a reason to risk death and give your father a heart attack?” Snape continued, shooting a glance over to Harry. Harry looked down, reading from the gaze that the man meant the reprimand for him as much as for Theo. Sorry.

“B-but it wasn't that-”

“Mr. Nott I would advise you to rethink that statement before you finish it. I count six times that you knowingly put yourself in mortal danger for no better reason than 'curiosity,'” Snape cut him off furiously.

To all evidences giving up, Theo looked down.

Severus turned his gaze on Blaise, next. “And you, Mr. Zabini? Were you 'curious', too?”

Blaise shrugged. “Curious and bored,” he told him nonchalantly.

“Sir,” Severus demanded.

Blaise just stared at him, openly hostile.

Severus frowned. Blaise usually liked him, and at any rate was usually more cautious than this even with teachers he didn't like. “Is there a particular reason, Mr. Zabini, that you think it a good idea to provoke me right now?”

“Provoke you, sir?” Blaise answered. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

Severus froze, staring into Blaise's eyes and surprisingly tempted to intrude into his thoughts. Harry's right. It is as if the boy has nothing to lose.

And so he used a trick that sometimes worked with Harry. Ignoring the current conversation, he struck for the heart of the issue. “What is wrong, Mr. Zabini?” he asked, allowing his tone to soften marginally.

“Wrong, sir?” Blaise asked innocently.

“Do not play dumb with me, Mr. Zabini,” Severus said bluntly. “You know perfectly well what I mean. Theo and the Gryffindors I can understand: they follow you. But Harry is usually your accomplice in these things, and this time even he was intelligent enough to judge this a bad plan. You lead your friends into this. Either your judgment is off, or you simply do not care. I want to know which, and why.”

Blaise just stared at him, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Perceptive, Harry. No wonder the boy'd been unable to just let his friend rush off.

Severus met the boy's stare, unblinking, until the boy looked away.

Better. “We will speak later, in private,” he said. “And I will get my answer. But for now, you all have a meeting with the headmaster, and then your parents.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Dumbledore's office was crowded with the five Slythindors and the two heads-of-house filling it. Harry stood ramrod straight, side by side with Blaise, staring at the headmaster with his chin slightly raised. He looked up suddenly when he felt Snape's hand on his shoulder. The man frowned at him, and he smiled slightly. I wasn't gonna be rude. But neither he nor Blaise particularly trusted the man, but with Snape in the room, he'd put up with it. Nudging Blaise, he got the other boy's attention and indicated Snape, and the other boy nodded, posture relaxing marginally.

Hermione was clutching Ron's hand, and they were both clearly too terrified about being hauled up in front of the headmaster to remember that boys and girls didn't do that. Poor Hermione, Harry thought. Ron looked petrified, but he was at least used to being in trouble.

Theo didn't have a problem with the headmaster, that Harry knew of, but he was clearly as nervous as the two Gryffindors as he twisted side by side and twirled his hair.

Dumbledore himself stared down at the five of them gravely.

“I am sure,” he said, “that your heads-of-house have already taken the trouble to explain to you the gravity of the choices you made last night. You were all warned at the beginning of the year of the danger associated with that area of the castle, and forbidden from entering it. I had hoped that we would get to the end of the year without another incident from the five of you, but now I must only hope that at the very least you will learn from the incident. You are all suspended for a week, and, in addition, fifty points will be taken from each of you.”

“E-each? Sir?” Ron repeated.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore said, sounding regretful. “Each. I suppose it is time Ravenclaw won the cup, anyway.”

A rattling sound could be heard, and Dumbledore pointed to a smaller version of the house counters on his desk. Indeed, Ravenclaw was in the lead, and Hufflepuff right behind them. There was no way they could make up the difference in either house before the end of the term.

Somehow, Harry didn't care all that much about the points. Blaise didn't seem to mind much, either – he was still just tense, and his facial expression didn't change. Ron, Hermione, and Theo all looked crushed, though. It's worst for Theo, he realized. He cares about points, and he cares that his dad'll be mad. It didn't seem quite fair, that Blaise and he had lead, and Theo was bearing the brunt of the punishment. Ron and Hermione, too, he thought. Hermione hated being in trouble at all, for any reason, with anyone, and the Weasley family's fear of their mum was legendary.

“That is not fair, sir,” Harry heard Blaise say, more respectful than he'd been all day.

“Not fair, Mr. Zabini?” Dumbledore asked politely. “How so?”

“It was my fault, sir. I lead the others into it, and frankly I don't give a damn about the points.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Ah, it is good of you to come to the defense of your friends, Mr. Zabini, but I fear I cannot lighten their punishment for it. Unless, as I very much doubt, you managed to compel their actions in some manner, they had every chance to back out of this, and as such hold every responsibility for their actions. I will say, however, that this leadership quality you have – both in leading people around you into following you, and your tendency to defend them in turn – is a good and powerful one. Use it well, Mr. Zabini.”

Blaise snorted lightly. “Better than this fiasco?” he said.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. “Yes indeed. It is the unfortunate burden of leaders that they cannot allow their personal pain to outweigh the need to lead carefully. You cannot afford to risk your life, Mr. Zabini, without also risking the lives of others. Of course, we would also prefer that you not be so happy to risk your own life, but then perhaps that is too much to wish for at this particular moment in time.”

Huh? Harry wondered. Blaise seemed to have mostly gotten it, though. His face betrayed a certain puzzlement, but he nodded seriously to the headmaster, and his posture was much more relaxed than before.

“Very well,” Dumbledore said. “Follow your heads-of-house to their offices for conferences with your parents. I will see you all at the end-of-year feast.”

Suddenly glad that his 'parental conference' was already over, Harry watched Theo, Ron, and Hermione exchange agonized looks before Ron and Hermione turned to follow McGonagall, and a hand on Blaise's shoulder prompted the other three to turn and follow Snape.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Mr. Zabini, you come with me. Mr. Nott, I will come find you shortly. Harry-”

“I know,” Harry said. “I'll just get back in my kennel, shall I?” He sounded kind of depressed, and Blaise was concerned for a moment before realizing that he was probably just grounded. Snape seemed to notice, too, and ran a hand over Harry's hair. Blaise was surprised to find that watching the gesture hurt, just a little bit.

“Come, Zabini,” Snape said as Theo and Harry left.

“Yes, sir,” Blaise answered, more respectful than before. Parental conferences. He really is going to call home. Shit. In that case being on Snape’s bad side would not be a good thing.

When they got to Snape's office, Snape reached up for the floo powder.

“Sir,” Blaise said quickly, interrupting the movement.

Severus paused. “Yes, Mr. Zabini?”

Shit. What do I say? “Don't call my family, sir,” he requested, keeping his tone even and confident. Snape just stared at him, clearly waiting for Blaise to say something more.

But he couldn’t explain. Instead, he closed his eyes. “Please,” he added softly. “I’m sorry I was rude, earlier.”

He opened his eyes to find Snape frowning at him. “It is school policy to call guardians for something like this. You wish to be treated differently from your friends?”

Blaise swallowed. Oh, hell. Fine. He shook his head and made sure his voice didn't shake. “Never mind, sir.”

Snape's frown deepened, but he reached again for the floo powder, watching him. Blaise made sure to keep his expression blank, but nevertheless Snape paused again.

“You are certain, Zabini? All you have to do is explain.”

“I'm sure,” Blaise said.

Snape stared at him for a moment, and once again Blaise just stared back.

“Explain,” Snape demanded finally.

“There is nothing to explain,” Blaise insisted. Snape was certain to figure it out anyway as soon as he called, and at least that way he wouldn't have to say anything.

“Mr. Zabini if you do not explain then I am obligated to contact your guardians about this. It has never bothered you before to have your aunt and uncle called in. What has changed?”

Blaise raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. Snape would know exactly what he was doing, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. “Changed, sir?”

Snape closed his eyes, his frustration written clearly on his face. He’d gotten the message, then. He was probably used to it – Harry communicated that way, sometimes, too. Good, Blaise thought, before once again remembering that he still needed Snape’s good opinion. He met Snape’s eyes apologetically. The man would know what was going on in minutes, anyway.

“Very well,” Snape said finally, dropping the eye contact to turn back towards the fireplace. This time when he reached up for the floo powder, Blaise didn't protest, and he didn't stop.

“Carolyn and Maxwell Luxanis,” Snape stated clearly before sticking his head through.

“Mrs. Luxanis,” Blaise heard Snape say.

“Get out of my floo, Snape,” Blaise heard his aunt answer glacially. “We do not associate with traitors.”

Blaise winced. Oh, this is not going well.

“And I don't normally associate with Death Eaters, Madam, but I have discovered lately that I will do strange things for the children in my charge. It regards your nephew.”

“We do not associate with traitors,” Blaise's aunt repeated.

“Are you referring to me or your nephew?” Snape asked her. He sounded surprised, to Blaise's ears.

“What nephew?” she asked him in return.

Blaise flinched, glad that Snape couldn't see him. You'd think I'd have got used to it already, he thought, swallowing hard and staring at the wall while he mastered his expression.

“Ah,” he heard Snape say. “Good day, then, Ma'am.”

“Come by again and I'll call my husband,” she told him. “He'd be thrilled to report your death to the Dark Lord when he returns.”

Snape pulled his head back through without answering, and stood up straight to look somberly at Blaise, who carefully avoided his gaze, keeping his expression as blank as he could manage.

“It appears that you need a place to go, Mr. Zabini,” Snape said matter-of-factly.

Blaise just nodded, once, not trusting himself to speak.

“May I ask what happened?”

He shook his head sharply.

Snape stared at him for a moment, but Blaise once again refused to meet his eyes. “Alright,” Snape said finally. “I'm going to make some floo calls. I will find you a place to go for the Easter holidays and the summer, at least. Then we'll discuss the next step.”

“Yes, sir,” Blaise said, tone and face blank.

“Given your preferences, where would you go?” Snape asked next.

“Notts,” Blaise said. “But that's not safe, for me or for them. Weasleys, maybe?”

“You could stay with me,” Snape offered softly. Somehow Blaise had known he would.

He shook his head sharply. “Harry needs you.”

Snape smiled slightly. “I think he would appreciate the time to himself, but certainly we would both manage, and three months of summer is a long time. He would probably appreciate the company.”

Blaise just shook his head again. Snape was Harry's, and whatever Snape said, Snape's home needed to be Harry's. Harry hadn't even spent any time there, yet. Snape had stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas.

“No?” Snape confirmed. “Alright. I'll ask the Weasleys, and perhaps the Grangers. It is fortunate that you have so many friends.”

“May I be dismissed, sir?” Blaise asked, doing his best not to sound too abrupt but wanting out.

“Go,” Snape agreed. “But return here tonight. You're suspended, so you'll need to stay with Harry for the time being.”

Blaise nodded again. “Thank you, sir,” he said quietly. Then he turned silently and left.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Severus sat back in his chair, thinking. What on earth had happened to turn the Luxanises so thoroughly against their nephew? Traitors, he remembered. The woman had said they didn’t associate with traitors. She certainly meant Snape himself, but she’d sounded like she meant Blaise, as well. Traitor. What had the boy done that his aunt would consider treason? She’d known the boy was friends with Harry, hadn’t she?

Maybe she didn’t, Severus realized. But the woman had taken the knowledge that badly? Even most Death Eater parents would’ve just told him to repudiate the friendship. But then, the Luxanises were not really Blaise’s parents. Who knew how many relatives the boy had lived with since his father had died?

And now he’ll be passed around even more, he realized. He and the Weasleys and maybe the Grangers would have to figure something out. The boy was right, that the Notts couldn’t safely take him. Not with Blaise labeled blood-traitor. Minerva might be able to take the boy for a little while. Molly Weasley was really his best bet, though. A more generous woman he’d yet to meet.

Mind made up, he went straight to the floo. “The Burrow!” he told it, throwing his powder in.

“…SUSPENDED! AND FOR BEING IN THAT HORRIBLE MAZE! OF ALL THE DANGEROUS, FOOLHARDY, IDIOTIC THINGS TO DO! I WOULD THINK THAT YOU WOULD HAVE LEARNED SOMETHING FROM THAT AWEFUL TROLL ON HALLOWEEN! BUT NO! NOT ONLY ANOTHER TROLL, BUT EVERYTHING ELSE-! ARE YOU SUICIDAL?!”

“Mum-“ Severus heard Ron try quietly.

He could’ve told the boy that it was fruitless. Molly was fully into her rant.

“ARE YOU?!” Mrs. Weasley demanded.

“Mum, no, I just-“

“THEN WHY-“

“Molly,” Severus broke in.

“WHAT?!” she yelled back, before seeing him and taking a breath. “Severus. Come in. I already talked to Minerva-“

“I gathered,” Severus told her, walking from the floo into her kitchen. She gave him a fierce frown. “But I need to speak to you about something else entirely,” he continued. “It is somewhat urgent, I’m afraid.”

He fought back an unexpected smile as Ronald Weasley, stubbornly still heading the I-hate-Snape club, at least when Harry wasn’t around, shot him a look of pure worship.

Molly caught the look, too, and for a moment Severus thought she’d be mad. Instead, her face softened at the woebegone expression on her son’s face. “Oh all right,” she said. “You go on up to your room, Ron. I’ll have chores for you later. But I will be telling your father about this. Suspended your first year. And I thought the twins would cause me the most trouble.”

To Severus’ surprise – surely Molly was the scarier of the two parents? - Ron actually seemed worried by the fact that she’d tell his father. “Yes, mum,” he said respectfully.

“I swear, Severus,” she said, turning to him as Ron left, “if I didn’t know what a good friend your son was to mine, I’d be ready to kill the boy. Ronald was never this much trouble before! What was it you were wanting to talk to me about?”

Severus held back a wince. That was not a good start. “Another of Ronald’s friends,” he said.

“Hermione?” she asked him. “What about her?”

Why would she assume he was talking about Hermione? “No, Mrs. Weasley,” Severus told her. “I’m referring to one of my students, actually. You’ve heard of Blaise Zabini?”

“Yes,” she said, “he’s that boy the Luxanises are raising. Poor kid. If he’s not a Death Eater yet, he will be.” She frowned. “You said Ronald is friends with him?”

Better and better, Severus thought, staring at her. Of course Ronald would have concealed his pureblooded Slytherin friends from her. She probably didn’t know about Theodore, either. “He’s the…other influence…that is encouraging Ronald to cause trouble,” he admitted. “He’s good friends with my son as well, and with Gregory Nott’s boy Theodore.”

Molly put her hands on her hips. “And the reason you’re bringing this to my attention?” she asked him. “I’m glad to know of my son’s troublesome new Death Eater friends, but it’s hardly the school’s affair to tell me.”

Severus shook his head briefly. “I am not here at the school’s behest,” he told her. “But more at Harry’s.”

“Oh?” Molly asked him.

Severus breathed out. Now they came to it. “The Luxanises have declared the boy blood-traitor,” he told her. “He needs a place to go. Permanently, if at all possible.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and crossed her arms. “Yes, and this concerns me how?” she asked forbiddingly.

“He’s a good boy,” Severus told her, hearing his voice take on a pleading quality that he hated.

“Whose mother purportedly murdered six husbands, including the boy’s father, who was raising him as a Death Eater. I have seven of my own children to protect, Severus, and that boy was raised by the Luxanises. ”

“Who have declared him blood traitor, Molly,” Severus said, “most likely for his relationship with our sons. A Weasley and a Potter. Am I to look for a Death Eater to take him?”

She frowned at him, then turned away to call out the kitchen door. “Ronald! Come down here for a minute, please!”

Severus heard the boy’s tracks down the hallway upstairs and down the steps before Ron arrived.

“Mum?” he asked nervously from the doorway.

“Tell me about Blaise Zabini,” she ordered him.

Ron blanched, and looked at Severus in horror. He really did keep the friendship from his mother on purpose, Severus thought. Interesting. He wouldn’t’ve thought the boy capable of keeping a secret. The expression on his face now was more open than he almost ever got out of Harry, even still.

“I – uh-“ Ron started. “He’s-uh...”

Molly put her hands on her hips. “Yes, Ronald?” she asked him.

And Ron started talking fast. “I- I thought- he’s a good guy, mum, and he’s real nice to Harry, and he’s real smart – smart as Hermione, even, and he killed the troll and he didn’t mean to lead us all down the trapdoor, and I mean Theo and I were totally in on it too, even Hermione was. Harry was the only one who really didn’t want to go. But he’s not a Death Eater, Mum. He’s really not. He likes Harry too much for that. He wouldn’t let anybody hurt him. ‘N maybe Hermione, too. She’s the only one as smart as him in the whole class. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you we were friends but he’s nice and Theo’s nice too and it’s not his fault his folks are Death Eaters!” At that declaration, he seemed to have run out of things to say. He looked at his mother in terror and shut up.

“Sounds like a pile of trouble,” Molly said to Severus, crossing her arms again.

But she was softening, Severus could tell. Somehow in all of Ron’s babbling he’d managed to mollify her. Seeing that, he decided not to speak, and just waited for Molly’s answer.

Molly glared at him, and humphed, then sighed, arms coming down off her chest. “I have to talk to Arthur,” she told him.

Severus felt his shoulders slump in relief. “Thank you, Molly,” he told her sincerely. “When can you take him?”

“I have to talk to Arthur,” she told him firmly.

Severus gave her a slight smile, and Molly shook her head at him, exasperated. They both knew that Arthur would have no objections. Molly put both hands up to rub her face like she was tired. “Where is he living in the meantime?” she asked him.

“In my quarters, I think,” Severus told her. “He can share Harry’s room, for now. He won’t stay forever, though. He doesn’t want to intrude on Harry, and I have to agree that Harry needs me right now. It’s going to be hard enough convincing him that Spinner’s end is his home without inviting another to live there so soon after I invited him. I need a place for him to go for Easter and for the beginning of the summer, if nothing else.”

Molly nodded, clearly thinking it over.

“Is Blaise okay?” Ron spoke up suddenly.

Severus almost winced. He’d known the boy was there and listening, and hadn’t said anything he’d regret, but Blaise would not appreciate Ron knowing what had happened. But if the boy was going to stay with the Weasleys, he could hardly keep the issue from Ron. “His relatives have decided not to keep him anymore,” Molly answered for him.

Good. That was enough information, without violating Blaise’s privacy.

“So he’s staying here?” Ron asked.

Molly met Severus’ eyes as she answered. “For the Easter holidays, at least,” she agreed.

“Thank you,” he told her fervently.

“Can he come now?” Ron asked. “He’s suspended, too. Doesn’t he need someplace to go now, too?”

“I was going to take him,” Severus told him, “but-” he looked at Molly questioningly.

“I’ll consider it,” she told him. “First, back upstairs, please, Ronald. Your professor and I still have details to discuss.”

“Please, Mum?” Ron asked. Molly gave him a look, and he spoke quickly. “I’ll go, I’ll go, just- Blaise is so serious, lately. Worse than Harry, even, sometimes. And there are already seven of us, it’s not like one more’ll be too hard, and-”

“Upstairs, Ronald,” Molly told him sharply. “I have not forgotten about your actions this morning. We still have plenty to talk about.”

Ron blanched, and fled, marching up the stairs as ordered.

Severus watched Molly as she stared up after him, making sure he went all the way to his room. She was delaying looking at him, he noticed, and just kept staring. Finally she turned back to him. “Oh very well,” she said crossly. “He can come this evening before dinner. But if this turns out to be a disaster, Severus-”

“He will be nothing but polite,” Severus told her. He shook his head. “If nothing else, he knows he has nowhere else to go.”

Molly winced. “Poor child,” she said softly. “That’s quite the decision to make when you’re eleven years old.”

“Better than when he’s twenty,” Severus told her.

She raised an eyebrow, knowing what he was referring to. “True,” she said. “Still-”

Severus gave her a crooked smile. “He’s a brave boy,” he commented. “Perhaps this’ll mean he can just be child for a while.”

“If he doesn’t get passed from family to family for the rest of his childhood, you mean,” Molly told him. “We’ll see, Severus. I haven’t even met the boy, remember.”

Severus frowned. “Ron’s description is accurate,” he told her. “The boy is entirely too serious, especially lately.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I had not thought Ronald that perceptive, honestly.”

“Oh, Ronald is selectively blind, deaf, dumb, and stupid,” Molly said affectionately. “Can’t reason out a damned thing if it’s for a class, but he beats his older brothers in chess and knows when to worry about his friends.” She frowned worriedly and looked at him. “How is Harry, by the way?”

“Grounded,” he told her. “He’ll be miserable for a couple of days, but then he’ll perk up.” He swallowed. “He gets really – careful- for a couple days after he’s been in trouble, still. Like he’s still waiting for me to somehow turn into someone else, or at least wondering if I’m still angry. And he still gets in trouble in the first place because he doesn’t trust me to take care of things for him.”

Molly’s face softened. “He’ll figure it out, Severus.” Suddenly, she smiled. “I have to admit, it’s still fun to see you this worked up.”

Amused, Severus schooled his face to blankness. “I assure you, Madame, I have not the slightest idea of what you mean.”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “You are Severus Snape, terrorizer of young children. I did notice how grateful Ronald was for your entrance this morning. That boy’s been good for you.”

“In between heart attacks, I suppose,” Severus agreed.

“You are thirty-two, Severus,” Molly told him. “Thirty-two-year-olds don’t have heart attacks.”

“Not without help, no,” Severus told her.

She only smiled wider.

“He’s Harry Potter,” Severus told her, knowing she heard the anxiety in the statement. “There’ve been two attempts on his life in only ten years.”

Molly frowned. “And both men promptly died,” she pointed out.

“No,” he told her, lying without a flinch. “One died. Nobody knows who attacked Harry the second time.”

“And Quirrell just decided to take an early retirement in the Caribbean at a convenient time,” she told him. “Of course, Severus. I do understand.” She shook her head, and changed the subject. “Like I said, Blaise can come here tonight before dinner. But I have a lot to do in the meantime. As do you, I suspect. You go back to Harry. I will talk to Arthur and come for Blaise around five.”

“I’ll tell him,” Severus told her. “Thank you.”

He didn’t mind being dismissed – he still needed to call Gregory Nott, after all. He flooed back to Hogwarts the way he’d come.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Gregory Nott!” he exclaimed, throwing the floo powder down.

“Severus.” Nott greeted neutrally when he stuck his head through. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have your son here,” Severus told him.

“I see,” the other man said forbiddingly. “Give me two minutes.”

Severus withdrew his head, and the connection ended. He looked down at Theodore to find that the boy was white. Given his father’s reaction at Halloween, Severus couldn’t blame him.

The floo opened again, and Gregory Nott stepped through to stare down at his son, who was very carefully studying the floor. “Yes, Severus?” he said without looking away from the shame-faced boy, “you wished to speak to me?”

“Go ahead, Mr. Nott,” Severus said, speaking to Theo instead.

Theo gave him an agonized look, and Severus was careful to keep his expression entirely stern. Theo turned instead to his father, making one attempt to look up, and then gazing at the floor again. “’M sspndd,” he finally managed.

His father just remained silent, and finally Theo looked up and tried again. “I’m suspended,” he whispered.

“You’re suspended,” his father repeated.

Theo gripped one of his hands tightly in the other. “I went to the third floor corridor th-that Dumbledore said not to go to,” he said finally, then stopped.

“Theodore,” Gregory said warningly.

“Th-there was a big dog,” Theo said quickly. “And then there was a really mean plant, and some charmed keys, and a g-giant chess set and-” he paused, then swallowed and continued. “And another troll, and some potions,” he told his father unhappily.

“A Cerberus,” Severus clarified. “Guarding a trapdoor that led onto a specimen of Devil’s Snare the size of a flattened tree, a mountain troll even bigger than the last, and the draught of living death. My son was there as well, along with Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley. All five of them are suspended.”

Gregory’s face was thunderous, and he didn’t speak, letting Theo twist in the silence.

Finally, Theo spoke up again. “I- didn’t know there would be all of those things,” he said. “We were just curious. We only knew about the dog. And we dealt with him, no problem.”

“And kept going,” Gregory said.

“W-well Hermione and Harry dealt w-with the plant,” he said. “A-and Harry dealt with the keys, and Blaise and Ron with the chess, and Hermione and Blaise and Harry with the troll, and Hermione with the potions-”

“So, really, you had not part in it whatsoever,” Gregory said cuttingly. “Is that what you are trying to tell me, Theodore?”

Theo fell silent, swallowing hard and shaking his head a little.

“Once again you followed your friends into a situation that could have gotten you killed,” Gregory told him.

Theo was still quiet, just looking at the ground miserably.

“Should I forbid you from being friends with them, Theodore?” Gregory asked him softly.

Theo looked up at his father, eyes huge with horror and mouth dropping open in mute protest. It took a few tries before he managed to speak. “D-daddy,” he whispered.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t, Theodore,” Gregory told him, to all appearances impervious to his son’s distress. He was faking it, of course. Severus knew all about that, by now, but it was a good fake.

“B-because th-they’re nice to me,” Theodore said frantically. “Th-they like me. They don’t think I’m s-stupid or crazy or anything. A-and it wasn’t their fault!” he said suddenly. “I wanted to go. I-” he looked away from his father’s anger. “I agreed even before Ron and Hermione and Harry did. Harry didn’t even want to go.”

“So then you would say that you, personally, decided to go down that trapdoor, and then to keep going through all the danger,” Gregory told him. “Is that about right, Theodore?”

Severus had to admire the man’s skill. He’d led the boy right into that one. Theo seemed to realize it, too, and looked at his father with wide eyes.

But the alternative was for the boy to blame his friends, and Gregory had definitely prevented that from being an option. “Y-yes, sir,” Theodore told his father.

“Thank you,” Gregory told him. “Floo home and go to your room. I will join you shortly.”

Theodore gave his father big, pleading eyes, but Gregory just reached for the floo powder and threw it in. “Nott Manor!” he called sharply. “Go, Theodore,” he said.

Theo gave him a miserable look, but went.

As soon as the boy was gone, Severus found himself the subject of the scrutiny. Nott Senior was not happy. Not that I blame him. It was Severus’ job to keep his students safe, after all.

To Severus’ considerable surprise, though, the man did not lay into him right away. Instead he took a deep breath, and spoke. “You said that all five are suspended. Did you find a place for young Mr. Zabini to go?”

Startled, Severus stared at the man. Nott knew that Zabini had been disowned? “I cannot do anything about it, surely you realize that, Severus,” Gregory said in response to Severus’ silence. “And it is your responsibility to find the boy a place to go, given the circumstances.”

“The circumstances?” Severus asked.

Gregory gave him a strange look. “You don’t know?”

Severus shook his head. “I only found out two hours ago that there was a problem at all. You say it is my responsibility? I am the boy’s head-of-house-”

Gregory shook his head sharply. “No,” he said. “That is not what I mean at all. The boy was disowned for withholding key information from his family. He’d been observing you and talking to Harry for months, you realize? Bad enough he didn’t tell the Lexanis’s about your relationship when it was developing, but then the adoption went through, and he wouldn’t tell them anything then either. Not about Harry and not about you. The boy’s lucky they didn’t kill him outright. A true blood-traitor. He’s been down a home for more than a month, now. I assumed he’d tell you, or I would’ve.”

Severus shook his head. “Never assume that boy will tell anyone anything. He has somewhat more of a self-preservation instinct than Harry or Theo, but not to the extent that he’ll actually ask for help when he needs it.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Severus,” Gregory told him, frowning. “Seems he enlisted your help quite effectively, didn’t he? He had to know that that stunt could get him suspended. And Easter is in only a few weeks. He needed a place to go.”

Severus nodded reluctantly. “True.”

“You do have somewhere for him to go?” Gregory asked him. “I’d take him in happily, if it wouldn’t get all of us killed.”

Severus nodded. “For Easter, at least,” he said. “The Weasleys are taking him.”

“And they’ll treat him well? Death Eater parents and all?” Gregory asked.

“Definitely,” Severus told him. “Molly Weasley is loud, but she wouldn’t know how to mistreat a child.” He smiled. “I’m somewhat banking on the fact that she’s also likely to be unable to give one up, once she’s taken him in.”

Gregory smiled briefly, then frowned thoughtfully. “Can she afford that?”

Severus smiled. “No,” he said. “But it’s a damned good excuse for Dumbledore and I to support her, isn’t it?”

“Tidy,” Gregory acknowledged, smiling again. He paused, then spoke firmly. “I’ll front the money,” he said. “He’s my responsibility too, and I can afford it better than you can.”

“You just said that the boy is my responsibility, Gregory,” Severus said, irritated. “I can well afford to support one boy.”

“Yes, but you’d be supporting two,” Gregory reminded him. “And you already did your part. This is my part, since the boy is a friend of my son’s.”

“Until you forbid it,” Severus said dryly.

Gregory was surprised into a smile. “Oh, I won’t do that,” he said. “Blaise and Harry have been damned good for him, whatever has happened in the meantime. But Theo does need to start taking responsibility for his own actions, following others or no.”

Severus nodded.

“But no,” Gregory continued. “Blaise is my responsibility, too. I will see to it that he’s provided for financially since I cannot see to his needs in other ways. It will provide incentive for the Weasleys to keep the boy, if nothing else.”

Severus gave him a cold look. “We are not paying the family to care for the boy, Gregory,” he told the man icily. “Molly would never permit it. We are looking for a family, not a set of financially motivated fosters.”

“No, but I would like some assurance just the same,” Gregory told him. “And if what you say is true, the money would go straight into care for the boy. We’ll simply grossly overestimate the amount the woman would spend caring for the boy as she does the rest of her family. If she’s too proud to admit she needs the help, she’ll also be too proud to admit that the amount she’s receiving is more than she can afford to spend on her own children. Then we make it clear that she can use the money as she chooses and voila.”

Severus shook his head. He didn’t like it, but it was true that Gregory Nott could afford to give the family more than Severus could on his teacher’s salary. “Molly will see through it,” he told the man, “but it’s Arthur who is the problem, pride-wise, and if the money goes straight to Molly he doesn’t have to know. Just be sure that your ‘friends’ don’t find out what you’re doing.”

“Point,” Gregory told him. “And done. But Theo will be thoroughly miserable by now. Contact me when you’ve talked to Mrs. Weasley and we’ll set something up. I have to go.”

“Go,” Severus agreed. “I have to go explain things to Blaise.”

Gregory met his eyes, expression subtly anxious. “I have never met the Weasleys,” he said finally.

Severus gave him a slight smile. “I would trust them with my son,” he told him.

Gregory raised both eyebrows. “You wouldn’t trust me with your son,” he told him.

Severus gave him a wry smile. “I don’t trust me with my son half the time,” he told the man. “But I’d trust Molly and Arthur Weasley. I’d have sent him to them, instead of taking the boy myself, but he’s never met them either. He’d’ve never forgiven me, or them, no matter how capable they are.”

Gregory snorted. “That and he’s yours,” he told Severus, sounding like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“It wasn’t that obvious, at the time,” Severus admitted softly. He shook his head. “That is beside the point,” he said. “You go to your son, I’ll go deal with Blaise.”

“Yes,” Gregory said, suddenly sounding tired. “I’ll go relieve Theo’s misery. Thank you, Severus.” He turned to the floo, threw the powder in, and left.

Severus rolled his head around on his neck, suddenly tired himself. It had been a stressful few days. He did it for Harry, he realized, awed. He’d known the boy would have to choose between the Death Eaters and his friends, but he hadn’t thought the decision would be made so immediately. Better than when he’s twenty, he told himself again. But the boy had lost his home over it. He owed it to him to make it as easy as possible for him to fit into a new one. Blaise would have a second chance, if he had to take him in personally to make it happen.