Halloween was approaching and classes were progressing as well as Harry could have hoped, better in fact. Potions remained his favorite, but Defense Against the Dark Arts, still taught under Dumbledore, was a close second. Dumbledore had given them intense instruction in a variety of defensive spells so far and Harry wondered how much he and his peers would have missed out on if Quirrell had managed to continue ‘teaching'. Offensive spells were included in the Headmaster's lessons, but avoiding getting hit by curses and hexes remained to be the main focus. The Headmaster also iterated that dodging spells could be just as effective as deflecting or absorbing them with a shield, physical or conjured.

Transfiguration and Charms were going well, though each in their own way. The spells they were learning were basic and for beginners, but it was obvious they were the foundation of more advanced ones. Harry wondered when they would get to animating objects. He also discovered he had a knack for details, such as producing particular textures on an object in Transfigurations, or improving the strength and duration of a charm. He was not exactly a prodigy though. His ease in casting was likely due to his studies in controlling his inner magic and studying ahead.

His inner magic. . . . Not long after the incident with Smith, Professor Sprout had called him into her office. Evidently, his accidental magic had caught her attention and she wanted to know if he would be interested in some private lessons with her after the Winter Holidays. Not about to turn down another opportunity to improve himself, he quickly agreed, though he did ask if this one-on-one instruction was common place.

"Every other year or so I give personal instruction to a student who could use particular guidance in a subject, either to help them overcome a weakness or improve a strength. Last year, I instructed Cedric Diggory in transfiguration. I saw he had potential in it but was hindering himself for some reason."

"And so, you helped him get over it?"

"Yes, and now he is one of the top transfiguration students in his year," she said proudly. "Now, I'm sure he could have gotten there by himself, but why struggle alone when you can get help?"

Harry couldn't argue with her wisdom, so nodded.

"I also wanted to talk to you about why your accidental magic had cropped up that moment and in the manner it had."

Harry looked down, feeling a bit ashamed of himself. He was usually very good at keeping cool, even though he was boiling inside. He had had to learn to keep his temper many times in the Dursley household or pay for it later.

"I am not angry with you, Harry; I just want you to know that it is alright to get angry. Smith had said some nasty things, and, considering everything, you did quite well preventing yourself from lashing out unreasonably. I am proud of you. However, I want you to remember that you should always be in control of yourself, never your anger. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, part of his mind going to a muggle series. Star Wars.

"I can tell you have had a lot of practice conditioning yourself in keeping your emotions hidden, and I believe I am also right to assume the same goes for your ability to pull in your magic?"

He nodded again, reminding himself that since she knew about the block it made sense that she would know about the Dursleys as well.

"Anger can be a powerful thing; we have to be careful with it. It can lead to other things harder to handle."

"You mean like the path to the dark side from Star Wars," he said suddenly.

Sprout blinked in confusion. "Star Wars?"

"Yeah, it's a muggle movie series. ‘Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.' The leader of the Jedis said that. Yoda."

"Hmm, I'd like to see this series," she said, intrigued.

"It's the best series I've ever seen," Harry said, while silently adding it was also the only series he had ever seen.

He had been able to see it when he had made a bargain with Dudley. He had promised to serve him and his friends cookies and drinks during the movie so they would never need to get up while it played. He had missed a few scenes, but he had heard the entire movie, which was more than what he would have gotten if he had been in his cupboard or outside working.

"Well, I will definitely try to find a way to watch it then," she said with a smile, before continuing the conversation by detailing when they would begin and where the lessons would be held.

Harry left her office a few minutes later, looking forward to January.

His lessons with Madam Pomfrey in Parselmagic had advanced somewhat. He could now confidently heal minor injuries without any problem whatsoever. He had healed six students since beginning in the infirmary. Two had been Quidditch injuries, no more than scrapes and bruises; one had been a twisted ankle, caused by the trick stair; and the other three had been from simple rough housing or foolish house rivalry. Madam Pomfrey handled the jinxes, but she taught him how to handle each one since she saw no harm to showing him. When he wasn't healing an injury (which was most of the time), Madam Pomfrey had him read her old books on anatomy and healing magic. Often times, she would go over the chapter with him and tell him about times she had had to use certain techniques to heal a patient. Harry would have never thought she had such an interesting life before working at Hogwarts. Who knew she had been a nurse at Saint Mungo's in the years during the war against Grindelwald? She had even been one of the nurses who made sure Dumbledore was alright after winning the famous duel against the evil wizard. Harry couldn't have asked for a better healing teacher.

Neville and his other dorm mates, except Smith (obviously), quickly became his devoted friends in the weeks that had past. Other Hufflepuffs also became his friends, including Susan, Hannah, and even Cedric, though he was more like a kind older brother than a friend to him. There were other Hufflepuffs of course, but he didn't know them well enough for him to consider them anything more than pleasant acquaintances. Maggie Tolbert, the Head Girl, and another seventh year, who simply went by Tonks, were two such people. Harry was fascinated by Tonks, as she was a Metamorphmagus. Both seventh year girls took time to make sure Harry and the other first years had everything they needed but nothing really beyond that, due to the age gap.

As for friends outside of his house, Draco Malfoy was easily the closest. In the classes where their houses were together, they often sat in the same area. Vince and Greg usually trailed behind Draco, remaining like a pair of bodyguards. Though at first it was easy to assume they were brainless Slytherin muscle, they were more lazy than dumb. Not a good condition, but there it was. They seemed to have improved since the third week of school, however, and Harry wondered if Draco had done something about their inactivity in classes.

Another thing that had caught his notice was the change in the bossy girl in Gryffindor. He still wasn't sure of her name, Herminny or something, but ever since the beginning of October, she was no longer as intrusive as she had been before. He didn't know what to think of her sudden change, but she had definitely mellowed, and everyone else was too thankful to really question what had caused it. Perhaps she had finally realized her attitude was ostracizing her, or maybe one of the older students had pulled her aside and told her to tone it down some. Whatever the reason, Harry was certain it had saved the girl trouble with members of her house. No one liked to be told what to do, and no one liked a know-it-all.

The red headed boy in Gryffindor, Ron, remained solemn about his missing pet and grew withdrawn whenever someone asked him if he had found his rat yet.

"No, not yet," he would answer. "Scabbers started acting strange around the first week of school and then just disappeared. I miss him."

Harry really felt for him and wondered if Ron would mind if he asked Coral to see if she could find where the rat might have gone, but the few times he tried to talk to him, others in the house would interrupt and ask about Coral. It was rather bothersome. Oh well, even if Ron agreed, it was doubtful the rat would ever be found. Chances were he had fled the castle and, as much as Harry hated to admit it, the rat had probably become food to some predator.

As for others in his year but outside his house, he hadn't really had the opportunity to make solid acquaintances, let alone friends. Most of his peers were still too awestruck to have a real conversation with him. Harry hoped it wouldn't always be like that.

Smith remained an arrogant prat, but he had yet to start anything with Harry again after the confrontation in the dormitory. That was fine by Harry, but Smith continued giving him dirty looks and Harry was sure it was only a matter of time until Smith would try to pull something else. No matter, he would be ready. Gone were the days where he would endure bullying, verbal or physical. Never again would he stand idle and allow himself to take blows without standing up for himself, because. . . .

He was not a freak here.

He was a Hufflepuff.

He was not ‘boy' here.

He was Harry Potter.

And, most importantly, he was not alone here.

He was among loyal friends.

O o O o O

Severus took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

He had made another move, once again altering another individual's future sooner than he may have liked, but it could not be helped now.

Remus Lupin would be arriving to become the DADA professor on Halloween.

Severus had spoken with Dumbledore and had ‘let slip' that Lupin would be a tolerable replacement, more than Gilderoy Lockhart at any rate, who the Headmaster had been considering due to lack of willing professor candidates.

After everything Voldemort had done, that curse on the DADA position was one of the worst things he had done. How many generations had he caused detrimental, if not irreversible, harm to in taking away consistent defense instruction? How many people had been made sorely ill-prepared for the raids he carried out because they had never been taught how to cast a proper shield charm, let alone an expelliarmus? Too many, Severus was sure.

Severus refocused, deciding to think about something else.

He had taken it upon himself to speak with Hermione. She had come to his office wanting to know about a particular consequence of an ingredient when he decided he would save her from some future heartache. He had not particularly enjoyed the task, but it had to be done. She had to be told, in blunt terms, that her bossy behavior was not helping anyone. She had taken it rather well, Severus thought, and had only needed to fight back tears instead of sobs (as he had been expecting). Afterwards, she nodded in understanding and fled the room.

Severus was pleased with the results, and he was sure there wouldn't be any weeping Gryffindor in the girl's lavatory this Halloween. What a relief.

O o O o O

The school was buzzing with the news that soon Dumbledore would no longer be teaching DADA. Evidently, he had found a replacement and would be revealing the new professor soon.

Harry couldn't say he was pleased with the news. What if the new professor was (Voldemort aside) just as bad as Quirrell? Of course, hopefully more care had been taken in finding a replacement than what had been taken in hiring Quirrell, but he was still uneasy.

Entering the Great Hall with Neville and the others, they found it adorned extensively with Halloween decorations.

Harry was a bit unsure how he should feel about the day. Sure, it was a fun holiday and it promised to be much more enjoyable than his previous Halloweens, but it was also the day. The day his parents had been taken from him. The day Voldemort had marked him.

"Alright there, Harry?" Neville asked as they sat down across from Susan and Hannah.

"Yeah, just thinking."

Neville nodded. "I understand."

Harry didn't ask him if he really understood, but it seemed like he did, for which Harry was grateful.

The Feast passed quickly, and soon they found themselves looking up to the Headmaster when he stood up.

"Well, now that we have adequately stuffed ourselves, I would like to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," he said, motioning to the far end of the table where Madam Pomfrey and Flitwick sat.

The student body followed the Headmaster's motion and their eyes came to rest on a rather grubby looking man. Granted, upon closer inspection, he was clean shaven and had tame hair, but his clothes. . . . They had seen better days.

Harry frowned a little, wondering why Hogwarts hadn't provided upfront pay to the man since he would be filling a much needed slot at the school. He understood that in the Muggle world such arrangements were common. It also helped keep the professionalism of a company. Uncle Vernon had droned on and on about the importance of a company's image and that her employees were part of that image. He had gone on that rant after finding a tiny stain at the edge of his business tie. That day had Harry scrubbing the thing for a good solid hour to get rid of it.

Harry pulled himself from the memory and refocused on the rather hesitant man who had risen to his feet when Dumbledore had motioned to him.

Despite his attire, the new professor had a quiet confidence Harry quickly recognized. It emerged in the way he kept himself straight in spite of, in Harry's opinion, his apparent desire to return to sitting, away from prying eyes. It reminded Harry of the janitor at his old school, when the principal at an assembly had introduced him to the student body for Remembrance Day. He was a World War II veteran.

:He appears more capable than garlic-towel man: Coral hissed quietly.

:Hopefully: Harry replied.

"Professor Remus Lupin," Dumbledore introduced.

The school clapped respectfully, wondering if this man would be a good teacher, or if he would be like all the others that had passed through before.

Lupin sat back down with a brief smile to them all soon after, not saying a word.

Harry couldn't help but be anxious about the next DADA lesson the following week.

O o O o O

Severus remained standoffish when it came to Remus (not to mention most people in general). Remus didn't mind and seemed to be relieved with the arrangement; however, Severus knew it would not be able to last long where Harry was concerned. If Harry remained true to form and performed as he had in Albus' DADA lessons, Remus would take notice. And then he would go to Minerva, his old Head of House, and ask for her thoughts on Harry. From there, things would really get moving.

The question Severus was now asking himself was . . . should he attempt to stop it or get involved when it happened? Should he step in and guide the situation? Or would it be better for him to stand back in that instance and watch things play out?

He didn't know.

Albus had admitted to him earlier that week, before contacting Remus, that Harry was showing amazing skill in the magic he had learned so far in all of his classes. His devotion and determination was made evident in every casting attempt he made, and whether or not he succeeded on the first try, he was always eager to improve. His zealousness for such improvement was also unique. Contrary to most eager students (like Hermione), he was not outspoken about his skills or growing knowledge. He rarely volunteered answers when the professor asked the class a question; instead, he kept his head down. The only times he would answer was when he was specifically called upon, but when he did answer, he was always thorough and quick.

He was much like a sponge, and the more and more Severus heard his coworkers' comments about the boy, a part of him straightened in pride for his young old friend, while another part of himself saddened. Had they been so blind last time that such a hungry student had been passed over?

Granted, he had to remind himself that the professors' interactions with Harry were not the only things different this time. Harry was in a different house and had different friends, and the fact that Neville Longbottom was his best friend had certainly changed things. Instead of Ronald Wealey, who had been a fairly loyal friend but a constant distraction, he now had Neville, who didn't particularly care about Quidditch or other rather pointless things. Neville was desperate to make his Gran proud, and, now that he had some confidence, thanks to Harry, he in turn was helping keep Harry focused.

But even so, they had been very blind before. And it wasn't as if he and the other professors hadn't been given glimpses of Harry's abilities in the old timeline. He had persevered through tasks most adults would find themselves helpless in, and then in his third year. . . . He had devoted how many hours with Remus to learn the Patronus Charm? And then later that same year he successfully forced hundreds of dementors away. That had obviously not been normal. Not for an adult and certainly not for a thirteen year old boy.

How had they missed it? How had they failed to notice and point it out to the others?

And then fourth year. . . . Harry had poured himself over countless books, absorbing as much as he could in the short time he had. And to top it all off, he actually became a match for his competitors. Granted, there was some luck involved, but in the end he succeeded where many others had and would have failed.

He had won the tournament, before facing off with Voldemort and escaping with his life and the body of his older friend.

Cedric.

Severus wondered if things would play out as they had last time. Would fate be so cruel and select that boy again for the tournament? Would the tournament even be held? He certainly hoped not.

He pulled his thoughts away from such dark things and focused more on the present. Pomona had spoken with him earlier that month about Harry concerning the incident with Smith. He was pleasantly surprised she had come to him, rather than the Headmaster, but it was just as well.

"It was amazing, Severus," she said, taking a seat on his couch.

"Oh?"

"His anger was understandable. What Smith had said was utterly reprehensible, but Potter's control. . . . It was staggering."

"I see."

"You should have seen it, Severus, I doubt even Albus has as much control when having to pull in his magic."

Severus nodded thoughtfully, thinking back to the incident in the older man's office when he had told him about Harry's life at the Dursley's.

"Well, the reason why I've come by is to let you know what had happened and to inform you I will begin light instruction with him after the holidays."

"Light instruction?" Severus asked, suddenly wondering what the stout woman had in mind exactly.

"To improve his control. I understand you've given him extra reading material covering this sort of thing?"

He nodded.

"Well, books can only take him so far, and, with control like that, personal instruction is needed. If I'm right, he's already begun using the techniques in that Inner Magic book. He will need further guidance or his control will conform to how it is now, and not improve much at all. Granted, his control is marvelous already, but it has plenty of room for improvement. He is barely half way to his magical majority, after all."

Severus blinked, seeing her point that steps needed to be taken.

"Have you spoken to the Headmaster about this?" he asked.

"No, not yet. I figured it would be better to apologize than ask for permission in this instance, and that is if he disapproves when he learns of it."

The Potions Master smirked. Who knew the Head of Hufflepuff could be so devious?

"Very well. After the Holidays then," Severus said. "Oh, and I gave him a book on Occlumency. He is still too young to really begin mastering the art, but a few of the calming exercises in it may be helpful with whatever you have planned for him."

"Thank you, I will keep that in mind."

Severus smiled, very grateful that Harry had been sorted in Pomona's house.

O o O o O

Harry and the other Hufflepuffs entered the DADA room with the Gryffindors, all of them wondering how this new teacher would be. Going to their desks and sitting down, they quickly turned their attention to Professor Lupin, who had just come from the back office.

"Good afternoon," he said. "I understand the Headmaster had left off at defending yourselves against simple hexes and counteracting them?"

He received a few nods.

"Very good. Then open your books to chapter eight. We will begin an in-depth look into shield charms."

The lecture continued, and they were pleased that they could understand him and that he was actually teaching them.

"Later this week, we will attempt to cast the basic shield charm, but I think having a solid understanding of the theory is important to have first in this instance," he said, walking around their desks and making sure no one was slacking off or reading something they shouldn't be.

Harry had already read this chapter, but the pictures within were interesting so he was content to studying the wand motions and mentally repeating the necessary incantation.

Suddenly, Coral stiffened around his wrist, her coils tightening around his white scar.

Harry quickly leaned forward, lowering his face over her.

:What's wrong?: Harry asked as Lupin came up behind him and continued to Susan who had her hand up.

:The professor. He's . . . . It's hard to explain, I just feel. . . .: she hissed quietly.

:Feel what?: Harry asked, not noticing how Professor Lupin turned back to him after he answered Susan's question.

:He's dangerous. I feel . . . threatened almost:

Harry frowned, raising his face to the professor, only to freeze when he realized the professor was staring right at him. He met his gaze and couldn't help but hold it.

He let his magic flow from his center and swirl within him, as the book had illustrated to calm one's self, trying to draw some amount of comfort as he stared back into the deep hazel eyes of the new professor.

Coral was right.

This man was dangerous.

He didn't know how he knew, he just did.

The professor turned around and headed back to the front of the class.

"For Thursday, I would like a foot of parchment on shield charms discussing their strengths and weaknesses," Lupin said, just as class time came to an end.

O o O o O

"Something is off about him," Harry said quietly.

They were outside near Hagrid's hut.

"He seems nice though, and he's much better than Quirrell, and according to the older students, he's one of the best they've had in years. He's almost as good as Dumbledore on teaching the subject," Susan said.

"I agree with you, but something . . . I don't know." Harry sighed, wishing he could explain.

"Well, he is a good teacher. Who knows what he's gone through to know what he does about Defense," Neville suggested. "I mean, he does have a lot of scars."

"What do you actually feel, Harry?" Susan asked.

"Like he's dangerous. Like, he could just . . . I know, be unleashed."

"You make it sound as if he's an animal," Susan said with a frown.

Harry blinked. "You're right, but that's what it feels like."

"Like he's a wild animal?" Neville asked, confused.

"Well, sort of." Harry shifted, trying to make sense of it himself. "I'm not saying he's bad, he's just . . . more than he appears I think."

"Like an animagus?" Susan asked.

"Like Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked. "Hmm, I suppose he could be."

"Yeah, and maybe he's a giant grizzly or a tiger, and that's why he feels dangerous to you and Coral," Neville agreed.

Harry narrowed his eyes some, not quite convinced. "Maybe."

O o O o O

Remus could hardly believe how much his life had changed in the past week. He now had a nice warm place to stay, a well paying job in his most favorite place on earth, and he got to teach his best friend's boy!

He never thought he would feel so content.

And Harry, wow, that boy was amazing. He was definitely Lily's son. He was excelling in all of his classes and working fervently as if he had something to prove. Remus wondered what drove him.

"How has your first week here as a professor been, Remus?" Flitwick asked as he entered his office.

"It has been great so far," he said, not that surprised that the short professor had stopped by.

"Good, good. So, eh, no problems, I trust?"

"Like with the students? No, not yet. I have been impressed by a few of them, however."

"Oh?"

"Cedric Diggory seems to have a good handle on things, and Penelope Clearwater is very sharp."

Flitwick beamed at the mention of one of his Ravenclaws.

"But I am most surprised by Harry Potter. Being James' son, I had admittedly expected someone a bit different; granted, he is also Lily's," he said, growing quiet at the end.

"Yes, he is quite remarkable, is he not? I trust Albus told you about his special circumstances when you first arrived?"

Remus nodded, recalling his surprise in learning about Coral and Harry's parselmagic. He had read the Prophet, of course, but it was different hearing it from the Headmaster. He had also found it odd that the Headmaster had not mentioned the Dursleys at all. He had meant to question him about them, to learn if Harry was happy there, but he had gotten sidetracked with lesson plans and such soon after Dumbledore had given him a rundown of recent events surrounding Harry. A parselmouth . . . wow.

"So, what do you think of the boy so far?" Flitwick asked curiously. "I would like a newcomer's opinion."

"He is very observant and picks things up quickly. Though, if that comes from reading ahead, I am not sure. He is not very outspoken, but he answers the questions I ask him without any problems. He. . . ." Remus trailed off, unable to completely fight off a frown.

"What? What is it, Remus? He . . . what?" Flitwick asked when Remus didn't continue.

"He seems guarded. Guarded . . . around me. And I don't know why."

 Flitwick nodded slowly with a dark understanding. "I see."

"Do you know why that could be? Or am I just imagining it?"

"Unfortunately, you are probably not imagining it. After all, he has very good reason to be leery of you, since you are the new DADA professor and the last one had not exactly been pleasant."

"But why is he the only one acting this way? None of the other students try to keep me in view whenever I enter the room or tense ever so slightly when I get within five feet of them."

Flitwick sighed. "You know that the student Quirrell targeted had been a Hufflepuff?"

"Yes, but what would tha--- Oh, Merlin. It had been him? He was the Hufflepuff?!"

Flitwick nodded solemnly.

"I definitely understand now."

"I am sure he will see you mean him no harm in time. He has only been in a few of your lessons, you see."

Remus nodded, now deep in thought.

"Well, I will see you tomorrow," Flitwick said, deciding to take his leave.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow. Thanks for stopping by."

"No problem, and if you have any questions, you know where to find me."

O o O o O

"He's getting sick again," Neville whispered to Harry when they entered DADA.

Harry nodded, his eyes narrowing a little in concern but also in slight suspicion.

In the middle of the previous month, Professor Lupin had gotten ill and the Headmaster had had to step in and sub for him for two whole days. Now, once again, it seemed the professor was getting sick again, and in exactly the same manner as last time.

"It's strange," Harry muttered.

"I agree. Wizards don't often get sick. We're not like muggles," Neville replied softly as the professor motioned them all to take out their books. Evidently, he was feeling too ill to have a practical lesson that day and wanted to work from the book.

Harry was still leery about Lupin. On the one hand, he enjoyed the man's lessons and was learning a lot from him, but, on the other, he couldn't shake the feeling that the man was hiding something. Something dangerous.

He did find himself concerned for the man's health, though; but then couldn't help but wonder if Lupin's reoccurring sickness was a ruse to cover something sinister, just as Quirrell's stuttering had been a cloak for his true nature. Granted, he had only been sick twice so far, but it seemed as if the Professor was used to being ill.

Things just didn't add up. Of course, he was certain the Headmaster had taken extra care in finding the DADA replacement, and surely Professor Snape would not allow someone he found questionable to come near him and the other students, considering what had happened before. But, he knew, no one was infallible. The Hogwarts staff had been fooled before; they could be fooled again.

On a different matter, the winter holidays were approaching, and Harry was wondering where he would go during them. He knew Draco and Neville were going home for the break, as were most of the other students; however, he knew there was no way in . . . well, he knew he wasn't going back to the Dursleys for Christmas, not if he had anything to say about it.

He supposed remaining at Hogwarts wouldn't be so bad. He would be able to hang out in the library without any distractions and read to his heart's content. He wondered which of the professors would be remaining behind. He hoped Professor Snape would be around. And maybe Madam Pomfrey would have more projects for him to carry out. Most recently, she had started him on diagnosing students who came in, which had led him to using another ability granted by parselmagic. It was briefly mentioned in The Art of Parsel, but the particulars were not discussed. Harry soon learned it was pretty self explanatory.

While touching a patient and asking what the problem was, he would be shown. . . .

"Go on, Harry," Madam Pomfrey prompted, motioning him toward the third year Gryffindor.

Harry nodded and placed his hand on Lee Jordan's arm. :What is the problem?:

Suddenly, viewable only to him, the older boy's right knee gave a slight glow, and, in his mind's eye, he was shown a close up of muscle and tissue under the skin there. It appeared to be slightly swollen, and he could actually see blood that had seeped into the surrounding area.

Harry looked at the boy's knee, which was covered by jeans. "Did something hit your knee recently?"

The black boy beamed. "That's brilliant! How did you know?" Jordan asked. "I got hit by a bludger during Quidditch practice a few days ago. The thing had gotten away from the twins for a moment."

"Well, you still have some swelling, and am I right to say there's a bad bruise there too?"

Jordan nodded, impressed, as Harry moved Coral closer and spoke parseltongue.

"So brilliant," Jordan whispered as he felt his knee heal.

Harry thought it was brilliant too, and he wondered what he would be shown if he diagnosed Professor Lupin.

O o O o O

The weeks had passed quickly, and Severus could hardly believe they were preparing for the winter holidays.

It was very strange. Last time, he had been worrying about Quirrell getting the stone and frustrated with the Quidditch results. This time, his concerns were on completely different things.

Dumbledore was suspicious, though Severus was certain his trail was totally on the wrong track, which was the only blessing in the whole mess. The headmaster was clearly concerned with his wellbeing, for whatever reason, and had unknowingly let him know at nearly every turn. Part of Severus just wanted to yell out the truth to put an end to Albus' worried, barely subtle, glances toward him. But then, Severus admitted, bringing out the truth would only bring him more trouble and make everything even more complicated.

And so, he decided to endure.

Endure. It seemed to be the only thing he was really good at. Sure, he was a gifted strategist, a cunning spy, and the youngest Potions Master in over two hundred years, but lately, he felt . . . wary, old, and drawn. He had not slept well the last few nights, and it didn't seem that this night would be any different.

He could see the changes he had made in Harry, and he was proud of the boy, really he was, but he was . . . afraid. Afraid it would all be for naught. A part of him knew he was being too hard on himself, being too negative, and he knew the Harry he had left would not approve of his pessimistic thoughts, but he couldn't help it. It was in his nature. Every bit of good he had ever done had only come to bite him before the end. Nothing he ever did lasted, and no one he ever attempted to help was really saved.

Severus hit the wall of his private room with the palm of his hand hard. He enjoyed the echo it created and allowed himself to focus on the pain that tingled across his skin long after the sound of his flesh hitting the stone had gone away.

He was being stupid. He knew this. Harry had not sent him back only to have him question himself like this. His friend had not drained his core and given him a second chance only for him to wallow in misery and fret over a possible future of death and hopelessness.

Severus straightened and pulled his smarting hand away from the wall, berating himself for falling into such foolish despair. He was better than this! He was the Head of Slytherin, a member of the Order of the Phoenix, an underground fighter of Potter's Resistance!

Exhaling, Severus briefly closed his eyes.

Collecting himself, he moved over and sat down in his comfy chair, recalling what Harry had told him just before he had sent him back. . . .

"I trust you, Severus," Harry said, stepping back and entering the network of runes drawn on the floor. "If anyone can do this, it's you."

"You have a great deal of confidence in me, Harry, more than I would have ever thought I would receive from you . . . or anyone. I will try not to disappoint, not that you will know if I failed."

"Dumbledore trusted you as much as I do," Harry pointed out. "And you won't fail. You're too stubborn."

Severus smiled softly in the darkness of his quarters, reminded that even if he didn't have faith in himself, Harry had, and, perhaps, he would again.

With that, the Potions Master closed his eyes, and sleep found him. . . .

The night air was thick with sooty fog. Pockets of fire were scattered among the piles of debris that had once been the buildings of Diagon Alley.

The pillars of the bank had crumbled, and bodies of goblins and wizards were among the ruins.

"We're too late," a man said, going to his knees.

"No, not quite," an older voice said. Dumbledore.

Severus stepped up beside the former Headmaster, his eyes falling to the kneeling man. "Get up, Lupin," he ordered. "We have to find him."

That broke Remus out of his reverie and he quickly stood.

"To the bank, come now," Dumbledore said, moving over the rubble and stepping over cold bodies with solemn ease.

They came to the dilapidated walls of Gringotts, the great doors laying in shattered pieces everywhere. The doorway itself was now slanted, burned marks scarring all around the rim. They entered the silent place, wondering if they would find any life at all. There was so much death around them. This was one of the worst places they had seen this month. Voldemort's Lieutenants were really becoming Dark Lords in their own rights now.

With lit wands, they continued into the bank, going into the dark bowels of the broken place. With each step, their hope dimmed and doubt grew. They may never find him.

Knocking. They heard knocking.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing around them. "This way."

The knocking grew louder, more urgent, as they hurried deeper into the bank. Severus wasn't sure where they were now, but was sure they should have encountered dragons a few levels up. What had happened here?

The destruction was unparalleled, but it was clearly not all caused by Death Eaters, for they were now finding a few Death Eaters among the dead, some even high ranking. The serpent ‘V' insignia on their robes signified this, and the more waves below the V, the higher the position.

Continuing on, they found several more dead Death Eaters, and fewer and fewer dead goblins. Whoever did this had been quite quick and purposeful in their work. Killing Curses had not been used, but something just as powerful had been.

"Severus!"

Severus turned to Dumbledore's shocked call and found his mentor pointing his wand down at one of the most feared Death Eaters of all.

"Lieutenant Bellatrix," Remus breathed.

"She's dead," Dumbledore stated after a moment, having gotten over his own surprise at seeing her there.

"H-how?" Remus asked shakily.

"I do not know," Dumbledore answered, before they heard the knocking again.

"This way," Severus said, pointing down one of the more narrow halls.

Going down it, they came to a cave in. It was blocking the entire passageway.

"Harry?!" Remus yelled.

More knocking, these more frantic than before.

"Severus, cast a shield charm over us as I finish this spell," Dumbledore said.

"Yes, Hea-- Albus," he said, cringing slightly as he corrected himself too late.

Dumbledore did not like being called Headmaster anymore. Hogwarts had fallen, and he didn't like being reminded.

Ignoring Severus' slip, Dumbledore motioned them back as he raised his wand. "Harry, we're getting you out!"

BOOM!

He blasted the debris back toward them, so they would not harm Harry. Severus conjured the shield and protected them.

"Harry!" Remus cried, dashing forward with Dumbledore and Snape close behind.

Harry had propped himself back against the far corner. He didn't have anything in his hands, and Severus wondered where his wand had gone. Looking around with their lit wands, they were able to make out the area to be a small chamber. It had not been a vault, but appeared to be the remains of a ceremonial chamber for the goblins.

Severus refocused on Harry, who had now slumped to the side, blood dripping out of his nose.

"Harry, what happened here?" Dumbledore asked as he knelt beside him. Remus was at his feet, while Severus was behind Dumbledore.

Harry shook his head, closing his eyes. "I. . . ." His voice shook, and an odd feeling of magic rose in air.

"Harry, please . . ." Dumbledore gently pressed. "Please, tell us what happened here."

They watched as the young man took several calming breaths before he opened his eyes and looked up at them. "I-I tried to help the Goblins, but the Death Eaters drove us back, and she . . . the dragon. . . . And then they made it through the doors. I thought I was going to die, and. . . ."

"What, Harry? What happened?" Dumbledore asked, grabbing Harry's trembling hand.

"My wand broke," Harry stated suddenly.

"Bella broke your wand?" Remus asked softly, not that surprised the woman would do such a thing.

"N-no, I did. I cast and it . . . it crumbled in my hand."

Remus blinked in confusion, Severus frowned, and Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"It's alright, my boy, everything will be alright," Dumbledore said, leaning forward and placing his other hand on the young man's shoulder.

Harry went completely still as he raised his face, his eyes becoming remarkably and terrifyingly focused.

"I killed them, sir. I killed them. I killed them all."

"I know, Harry," Dumbledore whispered, pulling Harry to himself. "I know." With that, Harry collapsed against the former headmaster as the old man turned his eyes to his old spy. "Severus-"

"Severus? Severus?!"

Severus snapped his eyes open, feeling an extremely firm hand on his shoulder as he was startled awake. He didn't pause to think, didn't take the split second to determine where or when he was, he just reacted.

Bringing his elbow up, he struck the individual's arm up and away from his shoulder before straightening his arm completely as he closed his hand into a rock hard fist, slamming it into the person's chest to push them back.

He heard the unwelcomed guest gasp in surprise as the impact no doubt knocked the breath out of them. Severus didn't wait for them to counter his surprise attack as he leapt out of his chair, whirled around, and pointed his wand at them.

He froze.

There, in the dark chambers of his living room, was Albus Dumbledore, attempting to catch his breath with his right hand over his chest and his left lifted in surrender.

"Bloody Hell! Don't you ever do that again! I nearly blasted your head off!" Severus found himself exclaiming.

Dumbledore straightened, sufficiently recovered from Severus' attack. "I apologize, Severus, but after knocking several times at your door, and even calling your name, I received no reply. You are usually very prompt and I couldn't help but grow concerned. It is not even 10 pm, and I have known you hardly call it a night before 11. Being Headmaster, I took the liberty of entering to see if you were alright."

Severus frowned, recalling what he had dreamed and seeing how he had blended reality with his reliving of the past . . . or future. He was lucky he hadn't called Dumbledore ‘Albus' a second ago, because right then he hadn't been awake enough to realize where or when he was.

"Are you alright, my boy?" Dumbledore asked after a moment.

Severus nodded. "Yes, Headmaster. I am just not accustomed to being startled awake in such a way."

"Again, I apologize. I had not intended to alarm you."

Severus waved him off, before going to the couch and sitting down again after silently inviting Dumbledore to do the same.

"You are incredibly quick and agile, Severus. One would never think anyone would be able to move so fast immediately after waking from a dead sleep," Dumbledore added as he sat down.

"Quite. So, you must have a reason for coming this late," Severus said, deciding to move away from what had happened.

Dumbledore frowned at Severus' blunt redirection of the conversation but decided to let it pass. It had not been the first time Severus had woken violently, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"Well, I came to get your opinion on something," Dumbledore stated.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "And this, I gather, is so important to be brought to me now?"

"It is not an emergency, so do not become alarmed, I had just thought it would be wise to get your thoughts on it, considering your previous interactions with the boy, before the holidays come any closer."

"The boy? You mean Harry Potter."

"I do."

"So? What about him? Has he done something else that needs our attention? Has Madam Pomfrey come to you with something?" Severus asked, suddenly very interested.

"No, nothing like that. I had just gotten a floo call from Augusta Longbottom informing me that Neville had asked her if he could invite Harry to their mansion for the holidays."

"And you want to know if I think it's a good idea to allow it?"

"Yes, to put it simply."

"Well, what do you think?" Severus asked, throwing the question back at him. He was curious to see where Albus' thoughts were currently.

"I am not sure. I believe Harry and Neville would both benefit from such an extended visit, but I do not know if it would be worth risking Harry's safety. We have not seen the last of Voldemort, and I would be surprised if he remained hidden for so long again. He was most displeased the last we saw him."

Severus shook his head. "Mr. Potter is not going to be completely safe anywhere. You cannot keep the boy in a cushioned box and expect him to grow into a wise, respected individual."

"Yes, Severus, I know, which is why I have come to you. If I am to allow the boy to go to the Longbottoms, I would like some assurance all will go well."

"I am not going to baby sit or shadow them, Headmaster, so if that is what you are thinking, you better think of something else."

"No, no, nothing of the sort. I would just like some ideas for guidelines I should give Augusta to set for Harry. She is already expecting something similar, I am sure, for she understands the danger the boy potentially brings with him everywhere. He is a target, after all."

"I am sure Augusta will be able to keep the boys in line and as safe as possible without needing any outside guidelines. As for assurances, an emergency portkey would be wise, at the very least. I have already taken it upon myself to give the boy a safety necklace," Severus said before he could censure himself.

Severus resisted the urge to slam his hand to his forehead. He was too tired for this!

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "A safety necklace, Severus?"

Severus managed to appear nonchalant. "I felt it was the wise course of action to take. I told Mr. Potter to keep it on his person at all times, and he has done so. I have never detected him not wearing it, and he knows of its purpose. I doubt any adult in his conscious memory has ever provided him such a gift."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled tenderly. "Thank you, Severus. I knew coming to you was the right choice. I will call Augusta first thing tomorrow and let her know she will have a guest for the holidays."

"Glad I could help," Severus stated blandly.

The Headmaster smiled.