-Harry-

His last class of the day on Thursday, Herbology, had been canceled so Harry had made his way up to his dorm room to begin his homework and, more importantly, read Severus' letter. He opened his homework and grinned at the reluctant "E-" scrawled across the top. E minus! He imagined how much it pained Snape to give out good grades to Gryffindors, even to a Gryffindor named Harry Potter. He'd probably added the "minus" as an afterthought.

Harry ignored the actual assignment, not even bothering to read Snape's acerbic comments in the margins, and went straight for the letter at the end. He smiled more than once when reading Snape's ideas regarding his Animagus form, shaking his head at the obvious omission. Snape could suggest or insist that it was all about his mother, or something that was missing in his life (gee, could that be, say, his mother?) but Harry could not get past the obvious. His Animagus was a doe. Snape's patronus was a doe.

Perhaps what was missing in his life wasn't just a mother.

/

16 January, 1997

Thursday

Dear Severus:

Lockhart, Malfoy or Trelawney? Are you kidding? All I can say is that I'm glad I have my wand on that island. Auuughhh! Just wait 'til you get to the end of this letter and get to my questions. Paybacks are hell, Severus.

OK, let's get this out of the way. Malfoy. There, I said it. I figure that Lockhart and Trelawney wouldn't stay out of my way. They'd be all over togetherness time. Lockhart would have to have someone around to hear him talk and he'd keep forgetting who he is. He'd probably be helpless. I'd have to do all the hunting and cooking. I could probably convince him to swim for help, though…. Trelawney? I'd AV myself faster than you could say "Merlin's balls." Which leaves me with…Malfoy. It would keep me on my toes to constantly worry about what he's up to. Of course, if he's up to something on that island, maybe he'll forget whatever he's up to here at Hogwarts.

So your first patronus was a greyhound. I didn't know much about them before today, but since Hermione pulled all these books for me on animal symbolism, I looked it up. "Fidelity, majesty, courage and speed." It seems to be a perfect patronus for you. When did your it change to the doe?

I of course looked up mine too—kind of hard to pin down, since there are symbols for the doe, the stag and for deer in general. Heavenly longing, undisciplined vigor (you'd like that one—the undisciplined part anyway) and defeat of evil (hmmmm….). The druids thought that deer were capable of prophecy (maybe I could stay in my Animagus form on that island with Trelawney). I'm actually really looking forward to my next session with Minerva. She's kept me after class today to tell me to meet her an hour earlier for our next lesson—she's like to have me transform, keep my form for an entire hour, then transform back. I can't see why it would be so hard—but she said something about how the animal mind can fight for control and how sometimes it's hard to let go of the animal and return to human form. I can't imagine wanting to stay in deer form in her office, though. How fun will it be for a deer to poke around in a teacher's office for an hour?

Listen, I'm sorry for asking about your shampoo. If you must know (and I think you must given the circumstances), I lost a game of chess to Ron and along with it, a bet. I offered to hula hoop naked instead in front of the Quidditch fan club, but Ron picked an even more cruel punishment. Of course, the look on Malfoy's face when I asked you about your shampoo was worth the pain to Gryffindor House with all those points you took. If I didn't know him better, I'd have thought he was looking at me in awe. Didn't know it would take a blatant act of disrespect to bring out the Slytherin's secret admiration of the Gryffindors.

I'm kind of glad you won't be on that island with me, by the way, if you insist on bringing the dictionary with you. I can just imagine. "Hey, Severus, want to go for a swim?" I'd ask. And you'd look up at me, irritated, and say: "Not now, Harry, I'm almost to the Es. You aren't suffering from dysuria, are you? A difficult or painful discharge of urine?"

Ron and Hermione are still officially not talking, but they sometimes forget and one of them says something to the other, and the other answers, then they both realize they communicated civilly, then one of them gets all snotty and the other leaves the room. Ron's spending a lot of time hiding from Lavender. Dim as she can be, she's starting to get the idea and is beginning to stalk me if she can't find him. Speaking of stalking—Romilda has given up on Colin and slipped me another love note yesterday. From the gossip around here, Collin actually threw up on her when she cornered him for a snogging session. Take it easy on Collin in class if he's shaky the next few days—he's suffering from PTSD (that's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in case you're not up on Muggle psychological disorders). I think they used to call it "shell shocked" after the Second World War (You know about that, don't you? I figure wizards suffered during the Blitz just like Muggles).

Did I tell you I signed up for apparition lessons? I'm not as excited about it as everyone else seems to be. Maybe they don't know how apparition feels—like you're being sucked through a straw and left in this vacuum like limbo for so long you think you're going to suffocate. I can't imagine it's much different if you do it on your own or go side-along. But in my mind, it's a very convenient way to get from point A to point B. So, if I were on this island with Malfoy, could I apparate off whenever I felt like it? How far can a wizard apparate? Does it take longer to apparate longer distances? Could you apparate off an airplane to the ground? Could you apparate while you're falling to save yourself from being smashed up on the rocks? If you know how to apparate, could you apparate in your Animagus form?

Just for the record, those don't count as my questions. Here's my question: Same island, no possibility of getting off of it with magic, and you have to spend the foreseeable future there with one of the following three people, with one of the following three creatures roaming about the island. So, will it be Aunt Petunia, Professor Trelawney or Dolores Umbridge? As for the creature—pick from a dragon (a Hungarian Horntail), a basilisk (full-grown, not blind) and an Acromantula (size of a Muggle car).

I haven't asked Professor Slughorn again about that memory. I know Dumbledore is waiting for me to get it, but I can't figure out how to make him cough it up. He obviously doesn't want to even think about it, and now that I know what a Horcrux is I can't say that I blame him. Do you have any ideas for me to try? What are Slughorn's weak points? I figure I'm going to have to somehow guilt him into talking about it and giving it to me. Maybe you could make me a potion that would lower his inhibitions… Hey, if you have any of that, can I have a couple doses for Ginny?

I went down to visit Hagrid today after classes. The owlets are all gone now, and he asked about Mac. I told him you were bonding with him quite properly, and he was really pleased to hear that. He's got a new set of creatures for this term's studies. He wouldn't tell me what they're called, which took me right back to fourth year with the blast-ended skrewts, but these look more like centipedes with fangs and wings, only they're about a foot long and lime green. Days like this make me happy I decided to drop Care of Magical Creatures.

I'm looking forward to what you mentioned in your letter—experiencing my Animagus form in "its natural setting." Hope you can arrange something soon. This snow is bound to melt one day (at least by April) but I wouldn't even mind going out while it's still on the ground. I'm going to try not to analyze why my Animagus form is what it is. I appreciate your interpretation, though. I figure it will all make sense in time.

And I think your Animagus choice is excellent. I can see it would be dead useful getting lost in a flock. You know, a starling is a blackbird too, and that's the animal I picked for you a couple of months ago when Minerva and I did that exercise I think I told you about—pairing up people we know with potential Animagus forms. Maybe I know you better than you think I do.

Regards,

Harry

/

Harry tucked his homework inside his Defense book and carefully wiped his quill on a cleaning rag, capping the ink and returning it to his bag. A quick tempus told him that it was twenty minutes 'til dinnertime. None of the other sixth-years had come up to the dorm room to drop off their bags yet, so he wasn't surprised when he heard steps outside, though the rap on his door did startle him. "Come in," he called. It was Hermione's head, not Ron or Seamus or Neville's, which appeared in the open doorway.

"Coming to dinner?" she asked.

He got off the bed and stretched.

"Yeah. Just finishing my Defense Homework." He nodded to the textbook on his head and she smiled in understanding. "Did you need something or just wanting to walk down to dinner together?" he asked as he crouched down to tie his trainer.

"Well, yes, I did. Want something, that is," she said. She pushed the door closed softly behind her. "Ginny's holed up in the library, Harry. Luna's down with her now, but I thought you might want to go talk with her after dinner. She and Dean are having, well, difficulties."

Harry stood up and made a show of dusting off his pants. He didn't want Hermione to see the silly grin plastered on his face. When he looked up at her, he had schooled his expression into one of friendly concern—or so he hoped. The smirk on her face let him know he hadn't been totally successful.

"They haven't broken up, Harry," she said, bursting his bubble a bit. "I know Dean doesn't want to, and she's confused. I just thought you could talk to her, cheer her up a bit."

"Oh, yeah. Sure," he said, smiling a slightly lopsided smile as he opened the door to go down to dinner. "Library, you said?"

"Dinner first, Harry," she said, grabbing his arm. She pretended not to notice the hopeful light in his eye as they made their way down to the Great Hall for dinner.

-Severus-

As predicted by Poppy Pomfrey, the wizard flu had hit Hogwarts. It was a particularly nasty strain this year, causing most patients to completely lose energy for several days as their bodies fought weakened immune systems and intense fatigue. Severus worked in his quarters, getting caught up on his grading before his turn to help out in the infirmary. Each of the teachers was taking a shift, and though most of the teachers carried immunities to the flu due to nearly yearly exposure to it, a few newer ones had taken ill as well.

Severus opened Harry's letter when he began working on the sixth year essays, reading it quickly then putting it aside as he formulated his own reply. He was beginning to visualize the same island whenever it came up in their letters. The island was somewhere in the Caribbean, had sandy white shores, palm trees, a clear, cool stream flowing from a single mountain, and, oddly, a Quidditch Pitch. When Severus looked at the island from his lofty spot in the sky above, he always noticed bare feet footprints criss-crossing the sand.

Doloris Umbridge was not on the island. Neither was Sybil Trelawney nor Draco Malfoy.

Severus shook his head, calling himself back to reality, to essays and homework. Island dreams were fine, and served as good object lessons for Harry, but served very little purpose otherwise. Severus wasn't really an island sort of man. He paused, thinking of the John Donne passage:

"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the Sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee..."

/

19 January, 1997

Sunday

Dear Harry:

First, let me thank you for giving me such excellent choices for companionship on our deserted island. I did notice a certain absence of malevolent personalities, Death Eaters and the like, though at least two of the choices you gave me would certainly make good evil minions. May I suggest that you allow me to choose all three deadly creatures and forgo the choice of a human companion?

And let's close the door immediately on the idea of a potion that would lower Professor Slughorn's inhibitions. In fact, we will close it on the idea of a potion to lower anyone's inhibitions. First of all, no reputable Potions Master would waste time on such a formula, as it has been invented already and is in wide distribution across the world—both Magical and Muggle. It's called "alcohol" and you have already had first-hand knowledge of its effects. I do not suggest, however, that you invite Professor Slughorn for a nightcap in your dorm room or for a social drink at the Three Broomsticks. You are going to have to think of something else.

And in that, I can help you.

You asked about Professor Slughorn's weak points. I needn't point out to you his fondness for certain sweets—surely you have noticed that already. His other prominent weakness is his fondness for collecting. While others might collect matchbook covers, rare coins or even dangerous pets, Horace Slughorn collects people. Celebrities. Former students who have gone on to fame or greatness, current students who, perhaps, have famous parents or who are known for extraordinary circumstances that have helped form their persona. Thus, his Slug Club—an attempt to ingratiate himself to potential future greats .

So what do you have to offer to Professor Slughorn in exchange for the memory? Hmmm. You might start with…yourself. He'd very much like to add you to his "collection," I know, as he has told me as much himself. I should add that he was extremely fond of your mother, a fondness that was more than superficial. He saw her great potential and was touched by her generous heart. I think, Harry, that you will find a way to reach Professor Slughorn and convince him to give you the memory that Professor Dumbledore desires. But you may have to "sell yourself," so to speak and lower yourself, at least temporarily, to win what you desire. I wish you luck. Knowing now what he did not back when Tom Riddle was a student, he will be reluctant to admit any complicity he had in Riddle becoming what he is today.

"Fidelity, majesty, courage and speed." I miss my greyhound friend sometimes, though I have become accustomed to and comfortable with its replacement. I did not know that the greyhound symbolized anything else but speed—chalk one up, Harry. You have now taught me something I did not know before. Still, I cannot in honesty ascribe all of these adjectives to myself, especially not "majesty." When did my patronus change from a greyhound to a doe? I think I would like to leave that story for another day, Harry, perhaps during Easter break or over the summer.

You are full of questions today, Harry. I fear I will spend this entire letter answering them, but as there is not much new to write about, I will take the time.

Your questions on apparition are good ones, and I will do my best to answer them accurately. When students are taught the theory of apparition, they learn the 3 Ds: Destination, Determination, Deliberation. The wizard must be determined to reach his destination and do so with deliberation, but not haste. There are certainly limits to the distance one can apparate, but these are not set, measured distances but more like zones of comfort. It is not uncommon to make several apparition "hops" when traveling particularly long distances. Even Dumbledore would hardly attempt intercontinental apparition.

Could you apparate off the island to escape an eternity with Draco Malfoy? Even I would wholeheartedly recommend that. However, you must know your destination and keep it firmly in mind as you prepare to apparate. Could you apparate while falling from a cliff? While a certain stepping and turning motion is usually required, very adept witches and wizards can manage apparition with less of a controlled motion. However, only the most level-headed witch or wizard could keep the 3 Ds in mind while falling toward his or her death. In those circumstances, a well-timed cushioning charm or levitation charm would be more effective.

Does it take longer to apparate longer distances? I think not, though I have not measured this nor have I ever actually considered it. Apparition is the act of disappearing and reappearing elsewhere. There is actually no "travel" involved. It is rather a force of will to dematerialize and rematerialize. I have apparated countless times since receiving my license the year I turned 17 and each instance seems to me to be of the same length.

Yes, you could certainly apparate off of an airplane. Or even off of the Space Shuttle. However, doing so would cause a great deal of chaos in the Muggle world and I do not recommend it.

I doubt that apparition would be possible in your Animagus form. That, however, is a question, both practical and theoretical, for Minerva.

Thank you for the information on Mr. Creevey. He has been looking quite peaked lately, and on Friday he fainted dead away into his cauldron. He nearly over-dosed on shrinking solution, and I fear his nose will never be the correct size again.

I have made some progress on my plans to take you on an outing from the castle and have tentatively arranged for a visit to a property owned by the Headmaster next weekend. This outing is dependent on your ability to move back and forth between your human and Animagus form with ease and on how well you are able to stay in touch with your human mind while in animal form. Minerva will be the judge of your readiness. If all goes well with your lessons this week (Minerva has scheduled two, one on Tuesday and one on Thursday), we will leave Saturday morning and return at nightfall.

I have delayed answering your question as long as possible and shall try to make the best out of a potentially abysmal situation. For my human companion, I will choose your Aunt Petunia. For my magical creature, I choose the Acromantula. Remember, I have a wand; Petunia does not. I will simply wait for her to have an encounter with the spider, drop dead (whether from poison or fright is inconsequential) and then dispose of the spider (and of Petunia) with my wand.

Since you've introduced the Dursleys into our play, I'll follow up with this question:

If you could change any one thing about your life at the Dursleys, what would it be and why?

It is nearly dinnertime now and I have a pile of mediocre NEWT level essays to grade. I also have a meeting with the Headmaster to get through and am then going to the infirmary to help Madam Pomfrey with the influx of students sick with the wizard flu. Do try to stay healthy, Harry. Every bed is already full in the infirmary already.

Regards,

Severus

/

Several hours later, Severus opened the door of the hospital wing and signaled to a very worn looking Poppy Pomfrey that he was ready for his shift. Most of the children in the hospital cots seemed to already be asleep, bundled up beneath layers of covers as the curative potions they'd been given worked to shorten the life of the very aggressive strain of flu virus from two weeks to only several days. He was still receiving a briefing from Poppy when the infirmary door opened and a very pale Harry Potter stumbled in. He looked like he had no idea where his head was and couldn't be bothered to care much if someone did locate it.

"Mr. Potter," said Madam Pomfrey, hurrying over toward him. 'Is there a problem?"

Harry's tired eyes scanned the room, coming to rest of Severus. Severus, for his part, fixed him with a neutral gaze. No matter how much his insides choked up, no matter how much he wanted to hurry over to the boy, he resisted any outward show of emotion.

Harry smiled tiredly, understanding that his Snape was still behind that mask.

"Mr. Potter?" Snape, worried, could not resist taking a step forward.

"Not feeling well," answered Harry, his mouth and lips feeling clumsy and he brushed them with the back of his hand. "Throat…head…" He shrugged and sunk down to sit on the floor, his back against the wall, before Poppy could reach him. A shudder shook his body and he wrapped his arms around his legs.

Poppy rested a cool hand on Harry's head as she passed her wand over him. "Definitely the flu." She scanned the room quickly, looking for an empty cot. "He's let it go rather long…"

Severus had given up the aloof act and was crouching down beside her, next to Harry.

"I told you not to get sick," he muttered, hardly realizing that those instructions were sitting in an undelivered letter in his quarters.

"Welcome to parenthood, Severus," said Poppy quietly as she stood, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "As I'm rather tied up here, and we're out of beds, why don't you take Mr. Potter through to my office." She lowered her voice further. "Use the floo in there—I'll call in Pomona to help me here."

Severus helped Harry stand and half carried him through the door of Poppy's office, to the floo behind that door, then through the floo down to his own quarters. He didn't hesitate as he led Harry into his room and then tucked him into his own bed, following up with the needed potions and an extra blanket or two. Harry tucked himself into a ball and was soon asleep, looking small enough in the extra large bed to be a five-year-old child. Severus brushed sweaty hair back from Harry's eyes then left to settle himself on the sofa. He obstinately ignored the headache that was forming behind his eyes and the ache in his shoulders. He was not getting sick. As he drifted off to sleep, he made a mental list of potions ingredients he'd bring to that island…just in case.