“He’s so sweet!” Hermione gushed, as she scratched an appreciative Snuffle’s ears, “So this is where you been going?  To feed him?  Why didn’t you say?  He’s such a handsome boy.”  She sat on the settee, with Snuffle’s sitting beside her.  The dog was looking positively smug with the attention

Harry smiled, uncertainly and shook his head.  He’d never quite pictured Hermione as a dog person before.  She certainly didn’t like Fang this much.  However, that might have had something to do with the fact that Snuffles wasn’t drooling all over her robes.

“I don’t know.” Harry said quietly, looking at his hands as they rested in his lap.  He hesitated, then said in a rush,  “Listen, I’m sorry I haven’t been...well...I’ve been a bit...Anyway, I’m sorry.  It’s just that so much has been going on.  And well... I guess I was afraid the whole lot of us would scare him off.”  Harry knew that he hadn’t been treating his friends very well, lately.  He hoped they’d accept his apology, awkward as it was.  

That morning, Ron had been right on Hermione’s heels looking for him, and Harry knew he hated getting up early   She’d been up looking for Harry at the crack of dawn and found he and Snuffles curled up on one of the common room settees.  She’d shaken Harry awake and demanded to know where he had been until well past curfew.  Snuffles had interrupted her interrogation by raising his head and yawning, and then turning to regard them, his mouth open in a great, panting doggy grin.  

Harry had explained to Hermione and Ron (who was still in his dressing gown) how he’d fallen asleep outside after feeding Snuffles.  How Snape had found him and dragged them both to the headmaster’s office.

“Don’t worry about it.” said Ron bracingly, “You’ve had a lot on your plate.” Ron reached over to pat the dog’s head too.  “He doesn’t look like he’s scared of anything, now. ” Ron smiled, “I can’t believe Snape said you could keep him.  Did he really attack Snape?”

“Yeah, I thought he was going to tear Snape apart.” Harry said, “And then Snape said something about him being my familiar, and we brought him up to the castle.  I don’t get it.”

“Well, familiars are a bit like wands, aren’t they?” said Hermione, thoughtfully.

“Er.  They are?” asked Ron, mystified.

Hermione gave her familiar eye roll, “They choose the wizard.  Even if Snape said to send the dog away, it would probably find a way back.   Most of our pets are like us, in their own species.  They’re the wizards of their kind.”  She looked impatiently at their blank expressions, “Or did you think any old owl could do something like deliver our mail?”

“I never thought about it.” shrugged Ron.

Hermione sighed, “There’re all kinds of laws in the Muggle world against keeping exotic animals and you have to get cats and dogs all sorts of vaccinations and have them neutered and things like that.  But, magical pets are like us and don’t need all that.”

Ron was looking hard at Hermione, “What’s neutered?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.  Hermione’s cheeks went bright pink, “You explain.” she said, seemingly caught between amusement and embarrassment.

“Later.” said Harry. He’d forgotten to tell them the most important part, “After he said that I could keep the dog, Snape said that I couldn’t wander the grounds by myself anymore, because someone called Sirius Black is after me.”

Ron went pale, “You what?” he whispered, sounding uncharacteristically shocked.

“So, you know who he is?” Harry asked in exasperation, as Hermione had put her hands over her mouth in fear.

“He...he was You-Know-Who’s right hand man.” Ron replied, “He killed thirteen Muggles right after...” Ron sort of vaguely indicated Harry’s forehead, “He blew up a whole street, my dad told me.  They say he’s mad.  He’s been in Azkaban for twelve years.  He escaped last summer.  It was big news until...” Ron looked down, uncomfortably, “Until Neville.”  Ron looked up again,  “Don’t you remember?  Dumbledore said about it the first day we were back.  That’s why the Dementors are here.  I know The Daily Prophet hasn’t had anything but the Longbottom trial in it for weeks, I suppose it’s because there haven’t been any Black sightings, but he’s still out there.”

Snuffles whined and gently pulled on Harry’s sleeve with his teeth, “Shh, Snuffles.” Harry said to the dog absently.  He remembered vaguely that Dumbledore had said something, but Harry hadn’t really been in any shape to listen to the welcoming speech that day, and since Neville...

Harry’s thoughts were interrupted by Oliver banging in through the portrait hole, a slip of parchment in his hand.  He was dressed in his Quidditch robes, as if he’d just come off one of his early morning training sessions.

“Harry!” cried Oliver, waving the parchment around, “What the hell is this about you being on the injured list for the next week?”

“What?” said Harry, confused.

“Madam Pomfrey just sent me a note to put you on the injured list for the next week!”  Oliver walked over to them and paced up and down in frustration, “So I’m going to lose a whole week’s worth of practice with our Seeker because you have managed to mangle your hand somehow!”

Harry didn’t reply.  It was no good talking to Oliver, in this mood.

Oliver made a disgusted noise, “I told her it looked fine to me yesterday and she got all shirty with me.  Wanted to know if that was my ‘considered medical opinion’ .  She said she’ll fix it this weekend and you’re not to play for several days after.  A week she said!  No consideration of training schedules!  No understanding!”

Oliver paused to take a breath but didn’t seem to expect Harry to say anything, “I’m telling you Harry, go talk to her.  Tell her it hurts too much.  It’s an emergency and you’re going to bloody cut it off, if she doesn’t do something about it now.  And if that doesn’t work, I’ll find you a knife and help you!”

With a growl, Oliver stomped off towards the boy’s dormitory.

“What happened to your hand?” asked Hermione, concerned.

Harry shifted uncomfortably.  Apparently, this was how Snape planned to explain away the Quidditch ban, but it left Harry to make some difficult explanations.  He supposed it was better than telling people he’d been using inappropriate charms on first years, but still.  He didn’t like to tell Ron and Hermione the business about being punished for missing a meal.  Ron would rant and rave about the unfairness, but Hermione might very well side with Snape.  Harry didn’t need either reaction, when he wasn’t sure how he felt about it himself.“Oh, it’s nothing,  I just fell, you know...”  

Hermione looked fierce, suddenly, “No, you didn’t” she said, sharply.

Ron leaned forward, suddenly looking much more awake and alert, “Did something happen last night?  With Snape?”  Ron looked around them, dropped his voice, “Did he hurt you?”

Harry felt his cheeks turn hot, “No...no, nothing like that.  It’s just,” Harry suddenly knew he’d made the wrong choice in what to explain.  He wished he could crawl under the the carpet, rather than talk about this, and he knew his friends would be quicker than the adults (except for Snape, perhaps), to see through his usual lies.  

He took a deep breath, deciding to chance this little bit of truth.  It wasn’t like it was anything Snape and Pomfrey didn’t already know,  “This one time,” Harry said, clenching and unclenching the hand that seemed to become stiff, as he thought about it,  “My cousin and his friend caught me and they broke my hand.”

Harry didn’t think he’d ever forget the not-quite-noise it had made as the door slammed into his hand.  A sickening crunch, accompanied by a pain so sharp, it wasn’t real.  Dudley and Piers had gone further than they meant to, that time.  Aunt Petunia had even given him a paracetamol and an ice pack that night, when it became clear that the pain and swelling in his hand hadn’t gone away yet.  “It didn’t heal right, Madam Pomfrey says.  She says I’ve got inflammation in the joints.”

“Your cousin broke your hand?” gasped Hermione.

“That bastard.” growled Ron.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” Harry shrugged,  “Dudley could hardly ever catch me, it was just that one time.  I don’t think he expected it to happen, you know?” Harry said,  “Anyway, it was a while ago.  And Madam Pomfrey’s going to fix it, so don’t worry about it.” he finished, firmly.  He didn’t look at his friends as he said this, but he knew they were exchanging worried, confused looks “Look, I’m hungry.  Let me go change and we’ll go get breakfast early, okay?”

Hopefully, Snape would be there to see that Harry was not missing another meal.

Snuffles stayed contentedly next to Hermione while Harry and Ron went up to get ready for breakfast.  When they headed down to the Great Hall, the great dog continued out to the Entrance Hall and then out onto the grounds.

Their conversation was a bit stilted, as they sat eating.  Hermione seemed to want to say something and was biting her tongue.

“Mr. Potter.” Snape’s deep voice, right behind him, nearly made Harry tip his tea into his lap.

“Yes?” Harry asked, sharply, turning around.

Snape raised one eyebrow, “I imagine Mr. Wood has informed you that you have been added to the injured list?”

Harry nodded.

Snape’s mouth compressed into a line and his eyes were narrowed.  He reached into the one of the pockets of his robes and drew out a thin object.  He held it out to Harry, who took it slowly.  It took Harry a second to realize what it was: a Muggle pen.  It had an odd triangular grip that was thicker and softer than normal.  The end looked as though it had been spelled to have a tip like a quill, however.

“Sir?” asked Harry, confused,“What’s this for?”

“I’m sure your other teachers would appreciate legible handwriting from you, quite as much as I would.  Try using that, rather than a quill, until Madam Pomfrey mends your hand.” Snape said, archly, “Now, I will assume, we will not see a repeat of last night’s antics?”

“No, sir.” replied Harry, gloomily.

“Good.” Snape turned and walked away with robes in full billow.

The rest of the day was uneventful, although at lunch, Harry remembered the odd conversation he’d had with Ginny, the night before.  He looked down the table at her, seeing her sitting near Colin Creevy.  She was sitting alone, but she didn’t look unhappy, merely a bit preoccupied.  Her lunch was in front of her, barely touched, and she was pushing her food around on her plate with her fork, a tiny smile at the corners of her mouth.  

She saw him looking at her.  Instead of blushing and looking away as she usually did, she gave him a sweet, rather wistful smile.  Harry smiled back, feeling reassured, and went back to eating his own lunch.

That afternoon, he used Snuffles as an excuse to walk out on the grounds right after class.  

An excuse, because it appeared the dog didn’t have any trouble finding his way around the castle himself, and had been waiting at the entry to Gryffindor Tower when Harry was on his way in.  Harry reckoned Snuffles could probably find his way in and out well enough, but he wasn’t about to tell Snape that.

He didn’t dare stay out long though, and it was apparently a good thing.  As he was walking back in, he nearly ran into Snape in the entryway of the castle.

Snape didn’t say anything.  He just stood, with his arms crossed, glowering.  He nodded to Harry, who nodded back nervously, without speaking.  Snuffles whined and moved closer to Harry.

Harry made sure he was at dinner early, and in the common room right after, not wanting to spend the evening in Snape’s office, cleaning cauldrons.

Snuffles tucked himself into the corner of the common room, under the table Harry, Ron and Hermione where were doing their homework.  Harry was grateful the dog had such a calm disposition, as it offset his size.  After the initial ooh-ing and aah-ing, most people didn’t pay any more attention to him than to Hermione’s big, ugly cat, Crookshanks, who was now snoozing contentedly next to the dog.

“I hope he gets along that well with Scabbers.” remarked Ron, a little darkly.  Scabbers was Ron’s rat, that Hermione’s cat took great pleasure in chasing whenever he got the chance.  So much so, that Ron had taken to magically locking the rat into the the boy’s dorm during the day.  Privately, Harry thought that it might be a kindness, if Crookshanks caught the rat.  Scabbers had looked quite ill, and frankly, not long for this world, all term.

The common room slowly emptied as it got later.  Harry finished his homework and moved on to just reading.  He was never in any hurry to go to bed.  

The three of them moved to the chairs by the fire.  Crookshanks curled up on Hermione’s lap and Snuffles stretched out in front of the fire.  By half past ten, it was just the three of them in the common room.  Harry and Ron talking over the chances of the Chudley Cannon’s making this year’s Quidditch Finals and Hermione reading some thick book or another.

Hermione closed her book, stretching, “Well, I think...” she began, but she didn’t finish, because just then, Ginny came down the stairs.

Ginny was wearing her dressing gown and looked sleepy eyed, as though she had just woken up, “Oh. Hello.” she said blearily, “I didn’t know you’d be here.” she said.  Her voice was slurred.

“Hey, Ginny.” said Ron, “What’s the matter? Can’t sleep?”

Ginny smiled a little oddly,  sitting down hard on the settee next to Hermione, “I thought it would have worked by now.” she said, “I must have brewed it wrong.  And it is the full moon, isn’t it?  It’s supposed to be ready on the full moon.” Her voice was a little petulant, and sounded much younger than she normally did.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, having no idea what she was talking about.

““What do you mean?” asked Hermione, her eyes were wide as she looked at Ron and Harry, and then her eyes flew back to Ginny, "What's wrong?"  As usual, she seemed to be getting something before either of them.

“Neville’s so much better at this sort of thing.”  Ginny said softly, her face serene, “His hands shake, though.  Did you know that?  He can’t do the wand movements right.  And Snape scares him so much, he can’t ever keep his mind on what he’s doing.” She looked at the backs of her her own hands, holding them out in front of her “Maybe I did do it right.  My fingers feel sort of funny.” she rubbed them together, “They’re cold.”  

In the dim light of the common room, Ginny looked very pale.   Harry saw that she was becoming paler by the second.  Her lips were very dark, almost purple.

Hermione reached over and took one of the hands Ginny was still rubbing together, “You’re like ice!” she exclaimed.  Hermione turned Ginny’s hand over in her own.  Her nails were blue and the blue color was creeping up her fingers.

“Ginny?” Hermione’s voice rose an octave in alarm, “What have you done?”

“Hmm?” Ginny’s eyes were glassy, “Don’t worry.” she said softly, “You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”  

“Ron.” said Hermione, very softly, “I think you’d better get Madam Pomfrey.”

Ron nodded in agreement, standing up, “Yeah, all right.” he said in a voice that Harry had heard him use before, when he was out of his depth, knew it, and was making no pretence of it.

“Don’t you dare.” hissed Ginny, rising to her feet.  Gone was the dreaminess of a moment ago, “You lot mind your own bloody business.” Ginny’s face had gone grey.  Sweat gleamed on her forehead.  Her voice lacked any volume, coming out as a breathless whisper.  As they watched, she took two trembling steps away from them and crumpled into a heap onto the floor.

For an endless second they stared at her.  Hermione was the first to break out of her shock, dashing over to Ginny and turning her onto her back.  “Ron!”  She shrieked, “Go get Madam Pomfrey! NOW!”

Ron started, as though she had slapped him, “Right.” he said, dashing out of the portrait hole.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Hermione was saying loudly.  Harry had never heard Hermione sound so scared, “Oh no, Ginny! Oh Ginny!” She practically yelled into Ginny's face.  She put her ear up to Ginny’s mouth, as though listening to her breathe.  Harry could see that Hermione had started to cry.  She pinched Ginny’s nose and held her chin with her other hand, then she put her mouth on Ginny’s.  When she took it off, she listened to Ginny’s breathing again.  Abruptly, Harry realized Ginny wasn’t breathing.  From where he was, he could see her chest was perfectly still.

Dimly Harry was aware that he had also leapt to his feet, and was standing very close to Hermione and Ginny, unsure of what to do.  Snuffles stood at his right, leaning against his thigh.

Hermione put two fingers to Ginny’s throat, at the curve of her jaw, “Harry! Go get Snape!”  Hermione cried suddenly, almost sobbing with fear, although her shaking hands were now moving down to Ginny’s chest with purpose, “I think she’s taken a potion!”

Harry ran as if Voldemort himself were on his heels, out of the portrait hole and down the corridor, taking every shortcut he knew to the dungeons, praying that Snape was in his quarters, not wandering the castle somewhere.  When he came to Snape’s door, he used the butt of his wand to bang on it.

After a second, Snape, wearing a dark green dressing gown, snatched open his door, snarling, “What is the meaning of this?”

“Sir.” gasped Harry, “Ginny Weasley.  She’s taken a potion.  It’s bad.  In the common room.”

Snape stared at Harry, then, “Come in here, Potter.” he snapped.

“Sir! We don’t have time! She’s...” Harry began to protest.

Snape gave one of his growls and simply dragged Harry in by the shoulder to his fireplace.  He grabbed a box of floo powder from the mantle.  He threw a handful into the flames, “Gryffindor Tower” he called, and then stepped into the fire, dragging Harry with him.

He let go of Harry as soon as they hit the common room floor.  Harry fell onto his hands and knees onto the hearth rug.  The common room seemed to have gotten very crowded since Harry had gone to get Snape.  Harry couldn’t see Ginny and Hermione, with the crowd of students around them.

“Get back!” Snape ordered, “Back to your dormitories!. Now!”  

The students moved back, out of his way.  Some of them going up the stairs, but some of them, only going as far as the wall.  Fred and George stood next to Percy, at the bottom of the stairs, the three of them wearing the same terrified expression.  Harry had never realized how much Percy resembled Fred and George before.

Harry heard someone counting out loud, “One and two and three and four and five and six and seven and eight...”

“What on earth is going on here?!” cried Professor McGonagall’s voice, “Miss Granger! Miss. Lloyd! What are you doing?”

“They’re doing the right thing, Minerva.” Said Snape.  The students were out of the way now.  Harry could see what was happening now, around the settee.  Snape had knelt beside Ginny and was pointing his wand at her, “Don’t stop yet.” he said, to the two girls who were bending over Ginny's body.

A seventh year Harry didn’t know, was also kneeling beside Ginny, now.  Marian Lloyd, Harry thought her name was.  She was leaning with her palms on Ginny’s chest, pushing on it.  It was she who was counting.  When she counted to fifteen, Hermione leaned over and put her mouth on Ginny’s and Ginny’s chest rose.

Harry had seen this before, but in his panic, he couldn’t think of where.

The fireplace flared green, Harry scrambled out of the way.

Madam Pomfrey tumbled out with Ron, “What happened?” she demanded.

“It looks like an overdose of a Draught of Peace.  There’s residue still on her mouth.” said Snape, quickly, “Her heart stopped.  Lloyd and Granger started CPR, so I believe...Yes..there’s magical activity.  There’s still time, she’s not gone, yet.”

“You think the two of us are enough?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“She’s small.  And I will do it alone, if I must.” Snape snarled.

Beside Harry, Snuffles made a sharp little movement, as if to run forward, Harry put his hand on the dog’s collar.

“I believe, there are three of us here.” McGonagall put in, briskly, “I don’t know the incantation, but I know the principle.’

Snape nodded, sharply.

“Lloyd, Granger, step away.” said Snape, taking McGonagall’s hand.  Madam Pomfrey took the other.  Pomfrey and Snape aimed their wands at Ginny who jerked where she lay on the floor.  Snape said a long, harsh sounding incantation and there was a  flash of white light.

McGonagall gave a little cry, as if she’d been stung.  

The adults dropped each other’s hands.  Snape and Pomfrey knelt beside Ginny, “Yes. Yes!” cried Snape.  The man sounded jubilant, “She’s back!”

“She’s not breathing on her own, yet.” Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at Ginny’s mouth and muttered.  A glowing blue ball appeared over her mouth and nose.  Ginny’s color started turning from sort of a blotchy purple to a sickly, pale grey.

“We have to move her gently.” Madam Pomfrey said, conjuring a stretcher and blankets. “Severus will you inform the headmaster, as well?”

“Of course.”  He shot silver from the end of his wand, “Minerva? I’m going to help Poppy.” he said to Professor McGonagall, “You should come down to the hospital wing and have a Pepper-up, at the very least.”

The Professor had sat down, looking very, very tired. “Of course, Severus.” she said, distantly.

Snape looked at her with concern, then at Percy, “You.” he snapped, “ Escort Professor McGonagall down to the hospital wing.” he stopped, sighed, looked at Fred and George “The rest of you Weasleys.  You may as well all come.  Your sister is out of danger, but I’m sure all of you will want to reassure yourselves of that, before you do anything else.”  He looked then at Ron, Harry, Hermione and the seventh year girl, “The headmaster will want to interview all of you, I imagine.  So, if you could all accompany the Professor?”  His voice was lacking its’ usual edge.

“Professor Snape?” asked Hermione slowly, “What did you just do?” her voice was still high pitched, and frightened.

Snape sighed again, glanced at Madam Pomfrey, who was still fussing with making sure Ginny was ready to be moved, “We were able to restart her heart, because her brain was still alive.  To put it simply, we had to part with some of our own life energy.  It is too late in the evening to be discussing magical theory, Miss Granger.  Suffice to say, that it was harder on Professor McGonagall than myself, because of the difference in our ages.  Now, see to her, please. I will see to your housemate.”

Harry stared hard at Snape, wondering about what the man had just said.  How much of this life energy had he just given away?  Was it something that came back?  Snape was moving very stiffly and slowly now, as was Pomfrey.  McGonagall looked like they just might need to carry her.

Whatever they had just done, it seemed like they had put themselves in harm’s way, for a student.  Harry could see either McGonagall or Pomfrey doing that, without hesitation.  As they had just done.  But Snape?  Snape the bastard?  Snape the git?  He was unfair and a bully.  He was a nasty, evil prat who picked on people in class, was known to make even forth years cry, and played favorites, outrageously.

That evil bat had just told Pomfrey he’d do it by himself, if he had to.  He didn’t even like Ginny.

As Harry watched, Snape swayed, caught himself on the back of the settee.  He saw Harry watching and glared.  The man’s eyes were sunken and there were lines around his mouth that hadn’t been there, a moment ago.

“Ready, Severus?” asked Madam Pomfrey, tiredly, levitating Ginny on the stretcher.  They both put their hands on the stretcher, but Harry couldn’t tell whether it was to steady Ginny or themselves.

“Madam Pomfrey?” said Marian Lloyd, suddenly, “I’m pretty good at levitation.  Why don’t I do that?  And you and Professor Snape just tell me what to do?  Don’t forget, I can help you in the hospital wing too.”

Madam Pomfrey looked at her a, little vaguely, “Yes, of course, dear.  I forgot.”

“Harry,” Marian whispered to him, “Go get Professor Sprout.  She does healing too.  Meet us in the hospital wing.”

Harry ran out the front door of the common room just as the fire flared to life, with the unmistakable sound of the floo being activated.

“What has happened?” asked Dumbledore.  His voice was uncharacteristically shocked.

Harry didn’t wait to hear what they had to tell Dumbledore, as intent as he was, to get another healer on the scene.