-Harry-

Harry was not watching Ginny and Dean. He was not. Watching. Them. Kiss. Or snuggle together in the loveseat by the fire. He had written his letter to Snape earlier in the day and was wondering if he'd given away too much about the spell they'd discovered in the Half Blood Prince's potions text. Well, he'd just leave it. Snape was bound to find out soon and then he'd probably catch hell no matter what.

/

20 October, 1996

Sunday

Dear Severus:

I suppose I'll start by telling you about the love potions. I'm not MAKING one and hopefully am not drinking one either. It started when Slughorn announced his Christmas party. Yeah, I know, almost two months in advance, but the man actually scheduled it around ME so that I couldn't make up an excuse not to go. We're allowed to bring a "guest" and since I haven't asked anyone yet, I'm apparently fair game. Hermione overheard some girls in the bathroom planning to slip me a love potion. So, I need to give all my mates the antidote so they can dose me with it if anything happens. I'm not exactly sure what WILL happen, but I figure if I'm all wonky over some girl I've never paid attention to before they should give me the antidote just in case. Or hit me over the head with a cauldron. Both methods might be effective.

Thanks for telling me about Katie. I never would have thought it was so bad, that she'd be out for months. I'm one lucky idiot for not touching that necklace. And Ron too—talk about a brush with death. I suppose we all need to take a page from Moody's book—constant vigilance!

You did know I'd go straight to the library to find those yearbooks, didn't you? I haven't gone back far enough to find Hagrid and Riddle yet (and I've gone back thirty-five years already) but I did find one of you and my mum your first year. I can't believe how small you were! I think my mum was even bigger than you (though I think your hair was longer). How did she EVER get you to join the Gobstones Club? I'm sure you remember the picture—it's you and about six girls. You look properly sulky and keep slinking behind my mum like you're trying to hide from the camera. I'm not sure but it looks like you're wearing some kind of big medal around your neck on a red ribbon. Were you champions that year? Did you win the Gobstones Cup?

I'm still doing great in Potions with the help of the Half Blood Prince. I have a bit of confession to make about something that happened with that book, and I don't think you're going to like it much but I figured I'd better tell you before you find out yourself. Last week I was reading my potions book in bed. I particularly like to read the margins where you've made all sorts of notes and doodles. I had my wand in my hand and was waving it around a bit (just casually) and I happened to read something you wrote out loud…Levicorpus. Anyway, before I knew it Ron was hanging upside down in the air—like a giant was holding him up by his ankle. He'd been sucked right out of his bed. I don't know who was more surprised—me or him. But I knew the spell then—it was the one in your memory that I saw in the Pensieve last year. I know you told me not to use any of those spells and I really shouldn't have. The thing is, the other guys kind of picked it up and it's becoming quite the prank in Gryffindor now. The girls have all started to tie their robes down around their legs. I have this feeling someone will use it in front of you one of these days. Did you invent that spell? It really is brilliant—especially for a kid your age. I can see how it could be really useful to use on someone who was trying to run away or who needed to get blood flowing to their brain really quickly.

I worked with McKenzie yesterday after Quidditch practice. I'm just working on getting him to take treats and rewards without breaking my skin. I've had to go to Madam Pomfrey already to have her heal a pretty bad gash he gave me. So far he likes bacon the best, but he'll also take almost any food except for Hagrid's rock cakes. Hagrid usually sends me some of those for Christmas so this year I'll be sure to save some for you.

Quidditch practice was a bit of a downer without Katie. Ron was a mess and even Ginny had an off day. The beaters thought it had more to do with the lack of naked girls than with the lack of Katie, though. Since we were all so down, we snuck down to Hogsmeade and had a few pints at the Hog's Head. I met this really cool witch down there. She had a room above the bar and took Ron and I up to look at her chocolate frog card collection. Can you believe she had Morgana?

(Just checking to make sure you're still paying attention!)

Well, I did think about the questions you asked about my last meeting with Professor Dumbledore. How did what I went through at the Dursleys make me stronger? The obvious answer, of course, is that a kid gets pretty strong by cutting the grass, weeding the garden, and running away from Dudley and his friends. But I'm guessing you aren't talking about physical strength, are you? Well, I learned to take things less personally, to let things they said bounce off me. I developed really thick skin. I learned to make do with what I had and not to expect special treatment, or to expect anything, really. I learned to be inventive. When I finally had the opportunity to make friends, I appreciated them and didn't take them for granted. And because I never had a real family, I was able to build one of my own and didn't have to stick to the rule that families share a blood connection.

Kind of sappy, isn't it?

As for Riddle, I'm not sure what to say. I really don't like to think about it too much, and I know you are challenging me to do it anyway. It's just that it's so easy to see myself in him. I liked the quote you gave—Know thyself, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories. I'm really hoping we can get by without a thousand battles, though.

Can I stop playing chess when I beat you too?

OK—since you've pretty much demanded an answer, I'll tell you about my experience with the hula hoop. I was way better than Ron! I kept the thing going for a couple minutes, actually. The problem is that when I did it I made practically everyone fall on the floor laughing so hard they were crying. It would probably be a good way to take out a room of Death Eaters—have Harry Potter hula hoop them to death. Hermione says I look like an Elvis impersonator (whatever that is…she told me to look it up) and Ron says I look like I have a severe itch "down there" and am trying to scratch it by moving everything around "down there" without using my hands. In any case, I had my go with it and everyone had their laugh and now I'm done.

By the way, Ron says your last chess move was "predictable." I hope "mine" is not.

Have you ever had a pet?

Regards,

Harry

/

Harry rolled the letter back up after concealing the text and picked up his wand. His Animagus Studies homework was to try to transfigure common objects into miniature animal models. He had to keep a log of each original object and what it had begun when he transfigured it into an animal. He wasn't supposed to think of a specific animal when he did the transfiguration but to concentrate instead on the object he was holding, on its "essence." So far, he hadn't had what he considered to be too much success. The quill had become, predictably, a small bird. It wasn't any type of bird he could identify, however, looking somewhat more like a robin than a sparrow but not really like either. The Chocolate Frog card had become a frog. No surprise there. The little model frog was made of something green and squishy. His sock had turned into some sort of mammal—he was sure of it—it had fur after all. Sighing, he picked up the silver sickle he had placed on the table and tried again.

-Severus-

He was going to kill him. Take away the blasted book, burn it in his fireplace and THEN kill him. Except… except the boy had told him. Had trusted him enough to lay it on the line. Severus was comforted by that thought for mere moments before realizing that Harry had told him only because he knew Severus would find out anyway.

He racked his brain. What other spells were written in that book? It had been so long—more than twenty years—since he'd even opened it that he simply couldn't remember. Damn!

The boy was clever, that much was for certain. Offering those humorous bits about the hula hoop and the introspective piece about life with the Dursleys…almost obscuring the utter foolishness of uttering an unknown spell while waving one's wand about.

Sometimes…sometimes Harry acted like he was 16 going on 40. And other times, like he was 16 going on 10.

/

23 October, 1996

Wednesday

Dear Harry:

I trust you enjoyed your Animagus Studies class last night. I certainly enjoyed taking over the lesson plan for the evening, and whole-heartedly enjoyed the time I spent paging through my old Potions textbook erasing material deemed inappropriate for foolish Gryffindors. I suppose I should have had you do something more constructive than lines but Minerva's suggestion that you write out by hand the first chapter of "Magical Me" by Gilderoy Lockhart was as close to "cruel and unusual punishment" as I could get without facing an investigation by the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

You received your lecture last night so I will not waste more parchment space to expound further on how utterly foolish it was for you to use an unknown spell. Instead, I will move on now to address the other items in your letter, but you will know that what I'm really thinking of in the back of my mind is your foolishness! While you placed your experience with the hula hoop at the end of your missive, I will address it now. As I was not present for your debut with the toy, and would very much like to witness your prowess, you might look for a large ring-shaped object under the Christmas tree this year. The more rock cakes I get, the more hula hoops for you.

Ahh…what memories you evoked about my first official club membership at Hogwarts—the Gobstones Club. In fact, I joined this club a year before joining Future Potions Masters of Europe (FPME) and three years before being inducted into HSSS (Hogwarts' Sexy Snarky Slytherins). For your information, my mother was a Gobstones Grand Champion and taught me to play when I was a small lad. (Yes, I was a small lad once. I started out very small, in fact, and gradually grew to my present size.) It was I that convinced your mother to join the club with me and for your information, I was NOT the only boy in the club. Leslie Nolin, a prefect from Hufflepuff, was our team captain and Miles Pettibone, a third year Ravenclaw, was also on the team. Miles is now known as "Melinda" but that's neither here nor there.

I will be happy to give you the formula for a standard love potion antidote which you may make on your own time in the Potions lab under Professor Slughorn's supervision. The ingredients are all standard and most are in your sixth-year potions kit. I can also provide you with a love potion so that you can test the effectiveness of the antidote. Do not, however, get funny ideas in your head about testing it out on Miss Weasley. She will not appreciate it and is unlikely to forgive you when the potion wears off.

I thought it was you I saw at the Hog's Head Saturday night. Did you not see me in a corner booth with Professor Trelawney? We were enjoying a cup of sherry together after a lovely tea at Madam Puddifoot's. So, your new friend has Morgana? Do you realize how rare that particular card is? I would really like to buy it for Sybil so please pass on the address of your friend.

(Just checking to make sure you are paying attention.)

On a more serious note, Harry, I do appreciate that you gave thought to the challenge I put before you—to look at your life at the Dursleys and suggest how that experience made you stronger. I hope you see now that your real strength comes from the integrity of your character and not from the trials you endured during those early years of your life. Your assessment of friends and family is not a bit sappy. You need never be alone. Whether you have a thousand battles, or one monumental one, your friends and your family (and I believe it is difficult to define where one starts and the other begins) will be there with you and for you if you allow them to be. The Headmaster is helping you with an understanding of your enemy. I will help you further your understanding of yourself. And less I get too sappy here, as you say, I hope you now understand that your impetuousness will continue to get you in trouble and the first time I see Levicorpus performed at Hogwarts, I will punish you by revealing to the combined Gryffindor/Slytherin DADA class that your sixth-year physical revealed that you have a tattoo of a butterfly on your arse. No—make that two dozen butterflies, spelling out the phrase "Kiss my Booty."

Tell Mr. Weasley that my last move in our chess game was logical and calculated. His, however, was ridiculous.

A pet? Where did that come from? I had an owl when I came to Hogwarts. Her name was "Tempest." Since then, I have been adopted from time to time by a variety of stray cats. The most recent now lives mainly in Minerva's quarters—a cranky old calico called "Snarky" by your head of house. You may have seen her once or twice during your lessons with Minerva.

Have you found a new Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team yet? I heard that Romilda Vane had been given the position but had not heard that from you and wondered why you are remaining silent on the issue. Is she your secret weapon?

Regards,

Severus

/

Satisfied, Severus signed his name and regarded the chess board. Weasley's move was far from ridiculous. It was both daring and unexpected. He studied the board he had set up to mimic the parchment game and moved a bishop, studied the result, then returned it to its starting point. He spent ten more minutes strategizing before finally committing his move.

His meeting with Harry the day before had been interesting. Harry had been instructed by Minerva to bring his homework to his study session, including his textbooks. She'd left the office to Severus, and it was Severus who was sitting behind her desk when Harry knocked. Harry had frozen just inside the door as Severus held out his hand and demanded the Potions textbook. The ensuing argument had been priceless as Severus let Harry go on in his mistaken belief that Severus was taking the book from him permanently.

"But I NEED it," he had exclaimed. "I have a reputation to maintain in Potions now!"

In the end, Harry had spent two hours hand-copying the ridiculous Lockhart prose and Severus had paged through the text, reliving memories both good and bad. When he came to a page with the words "Sectumsempra" and "For enemies," he nearly shuddered as he erased the spell from the pages of the book, relieved beyond measure that it was not this particular spell that Harry had chosen to mutter aloud while waving his wand about.

-Harry-

Harry was sitting in the common room with his leg propped up on the sofa, a pillow under his still-sore knee. Madam Pomfrey had let him leave the hospital wing several hours ago "against her better judgment" as apparently the Skele-Gro was still mending his kneecap. He'd had another Quidditch accident and had spent the night in the infirmary. He didn't remember much from the night, but what he did remember was enough. Apparently, Severus had been called while Harry was under the influence of a strong pain potion and they'd had to call in the Headmaster to deal with Harry's convulsions.

He'd been told that Severus was safely back in the castle, but he hadn't yet seen him.

The upside of the injury was that Ginny was sitting on the floor leaning against the sofa, reading her Transfiguration text and chatting with him. Dean and Ron were both in detention with Filch (for getting in a fist fight over Dean snogging Ginny behind the tapestry on the fifth floor) and Harry just couldn't muster up a bit of pity for his friends.

He regarded his Defense Homework and picked up his quill.

/

27 October, 1996

Sunday

Dear Severus:

I'm saving what happened yesterday and last night for the end this time.

I think I'm in love with Ginny Weasley. No, I didn't just say that. OK, I did. I really did. I haven't told anyone. Scratch that—I haven't told anyone but you. And now I'm trying to figure out WHY I just told you. You've already said (twice) that you are not the one to come to for matters of the heart or some such rot, but I can't tell Ron. He'd belt me in the mouth for even THINKING about Ginny in that way. Dean is already going out with her so I doubt he'd like to hear that I fancy his girlfriend. Seamus is Dean's best friend. I'm pretty sure that Neville likes Ginny too—he always stutters and stammers when he's around her. I'd tell Hermione but I REALLY don't want to hear her advice, which would probably have words like "feelings" and "honesty" and such in it.

So here I am telling my DADA Professor, the man I hated until a few months ago, that I can't stop thinking about Ginny. I was watching her eat the other day and I even love the way she hold her fork. We were all sitting around the common room the other night drinking butterbeer and she burped and I even thought that was cute. What is WRONG with me? In the meantime, Romilda Vane (who is NOT on the Quidditch Team and is NOT our secret weapon but who IS the one threatening to slip me a love potion) is fluttering her eyelashes at me and showing up in the common room in her little nightie and it does nothing for me at all. Well, it might if someone did Levicorpus on her while she was wearing it…

I'm such an idiot about this that I'm thinking of picking Dean Thomas to replace Katie on our Quidditch team. I think he's the right choice anyway, but what I keep thinking about is how it will make Ginny happy. I had this dream the other night—I don't think it's one of those significant dreams like I had at Shell Cottage but who knows?—where Ginny and I were in our own compartment on the Hogwarts Express and I was trying to count the freckles on her face and then they all rearranged themselves to spell out "I Love Harry" right across her cheeks and nose. I am pretty sure your tale about my tattoos spelling out "Kiss my Booty" inspired this odd dream.

By the way, if you EVER start spreading a rumor about me having tattoos on my bum, I'll drop my pants right in the middle of class and prove to everyone that you're making it up! Butterflies! Where do you come up with this stuff? All my tattoos are dragon-related. Scales and talons on the derriere, in case you were wondering.

So that WAS you at the Hog's Head! We thought so but Hermione could not believe you would break a school rule and "associate" with another faculty member. Personally, I think ol' Sybil is worth breaking a few rules for, don't you? All those bangles and baubles and the smell of sherry to boot—she'll certainly never sneak up on you! If you don't smell her coming at least you'll hear her. Do you know that she's been predicting my death for several years now? It started third year when she saw the Grim in my tea leaves. I think she's disappointed whenever I show up for a new year. Anyway, why don't you and Syb and me and my new friend (Candy) get together for a few drinks next weekend at the 'Head? Should I sneak out with my invisibility cloak or will you give me a pass?

I can't tell if you're feeding me a line about the Gobstones Club or if you really were the one to convince my mom to join. By the way, does HSSS still exist? If so, who are the current members? If it is a registered club at Hogwarts, the membership rosters are public record. Are you the faculty moderator?

Well, onto the important stuff. We finally had a decent Quidditch Practice yesterday. Everyone was pretty on their mark for a change, and I didn't spend all my time staring after Ginny. At the end of the practice, though, I got hit pretty hard with a bludger. I was pretty high up and had a hard time controlling my broom. Ginny and Ron helped me land but I couldn't walk. Turns out my kneecap was shattered and they had to hover me back inside and up to the hospital wing. I was still there a few hours later, knocked out by a really strong pain potion while the Skele-Gro worked, when you were called. I really don't remember having any pain, but Madam Pomfrey said I was practically convulsing on my hospital cot. She had to call the Headmaster, and he apparently sat with me for a long time. Ron says he was there for several hours while he and Hermione waited outside to see me. Madam Pomfrey thinks I'm OK, though. This morning, Minerva came in and told me you got back and were perfectly fine and resting up today in your quarters. I'm going to have to trust her until I see you for myself in class tomorrow.

What happened to Tempest?

I've seen Snarky, by the way. She kind of reminds me of you—aloof, picky, meticulous, sneaks around puking up hairballs. I can see you as a cat person.

We're having a Christmas tree at Shell Cottage?

Regards,

Harry

/

Harry rolled up his scroll and put it on his lap. He sat for a long while, regarding the back of Ginny's head, wanting to touch her soft hair, but not daring to even raise his hand.

Why had he told Severus about his fascination with Ginny? What had come over him?

A voice in his head said you trust him with it. And really, when it came right down to it, he didn't trust anyone else.