The next couple of days were quiet ones, at least in the infirmary, broken only by an extended visit by the aurors for both Harry and Severus. Poppy was ... highly amused when she discovered that Harry's presence seemed to be having a mitigating effect on Severus' normally highly snappish and stubborn behavior when injured or sick.

For his part, Harry was rather grateful for the quiet and the change of pace, as it gave him time to read some of the books he'd gotten for Christmas. Books he found fascinating. The one on house elves had been the thinnest, and the one he'd read first. There had been nothing on how or why the house elves had become bound, but there'd been plenty on everything else.

House elves lived under a small number of deceptively simple laws. They were forbidden from entering any private domicile except with the permission of both their owner and the domicile's owner. They were forbidden to remove anything that did not rightfully belong to their owner from its present location. They were forbidden to attack any sentient being except in defense of their master's life. They had to obey their master's orders (except, of course, where said orders broke another law). They were forbidden to divulge family affairs or secrets to outsiders. They could only be freed if an item of clothing went directly from owner to elf ... if the item of clothing came to rest anywhere other than the elf, the elf could pick it up (and clean it/put it away) without being freed.

A well-treated elf followed those rules to a surprising degree. They were known to sacrifice their own lives in defense of their family even if not called for, or to consider anything and everything the family did a family secret, and therefore not to be spoken of to outsiders, even when ordered to speak honestly to an authority figure outside the family. And they would instantly re-bind themselves to their master in the event of an accidental meeting of elf and clothing. In the rare instances where they did something wrong enough to be deliberately freed and then refused readmittance into the family, they generally died of shame and self-neglect.

A badly treated elf could and did interpret the laws they lived under in highly creative ways. Granted, this often backfired in demands for them to punish themselves, but they could, and did, defy the rules to a surprising degree while still actually obeying the rules. If they were in especially dire straits, they would actively hide near their owners, waiting for a carelessly thrown item of clothing with which they could free themselves.

Hogwarts, with its 500+ population during the school year, was (and had been since its founding) a house-elf haven. Abused elves that managed to free themselves invariably ended up there, where they were put back to rights and bonded to the Headmaster/mistress. Generally speaking, elves had a lifespan of about two to three hundred years. How couples formed was a mystery, though it was suspected that the elves met in public locations or even Hogwarts now and again so that single elves could meet others. Couples only had kids late in life, and the number of elf kids born each year matched the number of deaths, which kept the house-elf population at a steady level. The kids were presented to the owner, or in the case of elves from separate owners, one child was presented to each owner, at about ten years of age to be named and bound. The binding process was startlingly simple, amounting to a drop of blood and an incantation.

House elves were also surprisingly strong, magically speaking. Wizards had never discovered a method to prevent an elf from popping into anyplace in existence, should their owner call for them, regardless of any wards placed, including the Fidelius. They could also, if asked, transport up to six persons through those self-same protections, which explained why the laws about not stealing or popping into places without being asked existed. While the bulk of their magic seemed geared towards domestic tasks, they were also capable of using defensive and offensive magic that, while strong, was limited to shields and a wave of force to knock attackers away. Bonded elves could (and usually did) run small chores outside the home, like buying some eggs for dinner or what have you, and as such were able to withdraw funds from their owners' vaults (at the owner's request only).

The book on magical buildings was a lot bigger. It seemed that any building exposed to wizards absorbed a bit of the magic wizards used with such abandon. Over time, depending on how many wizards there were and how much magic was done at that location, the absorbed magic became self-sustaining ... and the building became 'alive', for lack of a better word. Aware, on some level, of itself and its inhabitants. Hogwarts, while not the oldest school in existence (that honor went to a school in China), was nevertheless the most magical, 'aware' building in the world after a thousand years of children learning to wield magic within its walls. The Chinese school had been destroyed multiple times in the wars that tore that region apart throughout history, and had to be rebuilt, explaining why it did not surpass Hogwarts in its 'awareness'.

Buildings that become 'aware' would (and frequently did) act in defense of their inhabitants, using their magic to animate pretty much anything and everything not nailed down (and even some stuff that was) within the building. That helped explain, to Harry, how Potter Manor got so utterly trashed when the Death Eaters managed to get inside the castle. Further, a building that was exposed to only one family for a long enough time became tied to that family, and once it became 'aware', formed its own wards over itself and the land around it that would refuse any non-related person entrance no matter what they tried if the family was not in residence. This, of course, had led to the loss of several very old homes, as pureblood families died out. In every case, the home couldn't even be found anymore, nevermind be gotten into by any means. Interestingly, the Head of House could, in times of war, 'commune' with the house and get it to raise the family-only wards as an additional protection.

The third book was the most precious to Harry, though, as it was a (relatively brief) history of his family. The Potters had, apparently, existed pretty much since the invention of writing. The first magical Potter had actually been the clan laird, back in the mists of time prior to Hogwarts' existence. The man had only stumbled across the truth of what he was and what he could do in adulthood, and had managed to find another wizard to tutor him in the arts that existed at the time. Two of the laird's sons (one of them the eldest and heir) had also ended up being magical, and the wizarding Potters were born.

Clan fidelity and honor being what it was back then, the wizarding branch of the Potters had retained close ties to the nonmagical branches for a very, very long time, well past the time when the Statute of Secrecy came into being. In point of fact, during the innumerable wars between the Scots and everyone else, Potter Manor had been a refuge for muggle, wizard, and squib alike. During the witch-hunting eras, when fully half of all muggleborn children either did not survive to get schooling or their parents refused to send them for tutoring, the Potters were able to find and smuggle away a small number of these endangered children, providing them with a safe home at the Manor. Until the last couple centuries, there had hardly been a time when Potter Manor hadn't been filled with people. It was only when attrition had reduced the number of Potters to one or two per generation that the Potters began to withdraw from active interference in muggle and muggleborn affairs and the Manor began to empty. Even then, the Potters had always maintained a muggle/muggleborn friendly stance in the Wizengamot, fighting to keep laws as fair and open as possible, given the increasingly antagonistic environment.

Harry was startled to discover that the Potters, like every other pureblood family, could boast of a relationship (to varying degrees) with the Hogwarts Founders. All four of them, as all four Founders had had children, and purebloods had a tendency to intermarry to an insane degree. Generally speaking, there was apparently a tendency to have more of one Founder than another, especially in the case of Gryffindor/Slytherin. Where there was a lot of one, the other was all but nonexistent. The Potters, apparently, had more Gryffindor in the line than most, with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw essentially tying for second and Slytherin a distant third.

He was pleased to discover that it had evidently been a family mandate since the invention of 'living' portraits for every Potter and their spouses to sit for at least one. Harry hadn't seen that many portraits at the Manor, but then, he'd not explored every floor, or the vaults yet. Which reminded him that they needed to look for his parents' portrait. It helped, a little, to know that he was not as devoid of family as he'd always thought. Oh, the portraits weren't the actual people, but they, apparently, came damn close to it, the portrait's emotional attachments, temperament and actions echoing what the person would have had in life. So he'd get to know his family for himself, at least somewhat.

Severus had spent most of the first two or three days sleeping and giving Pomphrey death glares, which Harry had found amusing. By the third day, the naps were decreasing in length and the time Severus was awake was increasing, and Harry started spending time talking to him, about whatever came to mind. He got snarled at more than once, but apparently Severus appreciated the distraction because after the snarl, he'd indulge Harry with at least a short comment or two. Pomphrey, for reasons Harry couldn't quite seem to figure out, always seemed a bit amused when she came to check on Severus and feed him potions.

HPHPHP

Severus was surprised to find himself both not annoyed by Harry's constant presence, and highly amused by the boy's complete, utter, bullheaded refusal to be driven from the Infirmary, no matter the provocation. Severus also found himself making an effort to curb the worst of his vituperativeness when confined to the Infirmary for any reason. Certainly, Harry helped keep the worst of the boredom at bay, asking quiet questions now and again, usually when Severus found himself getting restless with being stuck in bed.

It was only the restarting of classes on day four that finally drove Harry from the Infirmary ... with much complaining from Harry, and a raftload of arguing and reassurances by Pomphrey, Dumbledore, and Severus himself. Severus found himself oddly touched by Harry's concern. Oh, Minerva and Poppy cared, he knew that, but he'd long since come to the conclusion that they would be the only ones.

He was completely unprepared for the reception he got when he finally was released from the Infirmary after lunch on day five, and made his way to the dungeons to check on his Snakes. They, normally reserved even behind the closed door of the dorm, converged on him in a rush of overlapping greetings and clear relief that he was back on his feet.

For the last few days, Severus had been contemplating how best to use the whole Quirrell mess when it came to his Snakes. He had long ago resigned himself to riding the fence, and watching most of his Snakes slip through his fingers and right into Voldemort's grasp. As a spy, he would have been unable to make any kind of play strong enough to keep all but the most reluctant from accepting the Mark. Now, however, with his own situation changed and Voldemort, in whatever form, on the move once more, he might be able to get through to most of them. And the fact Lucius was not screaming the school down because he'd found out Severus had played him (which he would have, if Draco was reporting everything to his father) meant that there was, indeed, hope.

"There will be a House meeting tonight at curfew. Everyone is to attend. No exceptions, no excuses." Severus told them. "The events of the Hufflepuff/Gryffindor match and the fight afterwards will be explained at that time, as I have no desire to repeat myself multiple times."

His reception at dinner that evening had Severus deeply amused. When he stalked in with his usual flair, the volume of chatter abruptly trebled, and practically every eye in the room was on him as he took his seat. Minerva, next to him, gave an amused snort.

"I'm glad to see you back on your feet, Severus. Did Poppy say when you would be permitted to teach again?"

Severus grimaced. "Not for another week." He growled. Privately, he agreed with the assessment. While he had energy enough to walk around and probably to do patrolling in the evenings, keeping up with twenty-eight classes and around three hundred students (give or take) would be well beyond him for another few days at the least. Of course, he would never admit that, to anyone. "I fully intend to be back in the classroom within three days." He grumped.

HPHPHP

Three days later he did, in fact, resume some of his classes. Sort of. He started consulting with his seventh years, who could all be trusted to work individually without blowing themselves or the lab to smithereens, even if he never admitted that. After checking on their progress during his absence, he checked with the sixth years, and gave them an assignment to work on for their first actual class with him the following week.

He'd gotten all the papers graded long before he'd checked with the seventh years, which meant he had a lot of free time. He spent most of it, to his chagrin, putting his head together with Lupin in an attempt to figure out what the deal was with the map and Pettigrew. Thus far, they'd been unable to pin the ghost down ... if, indeed, that was what it was. Consultations with Sir Nicholas, the Fat Friar and the Bloody Baron produced nothing ... evidently, they'd not seen a new ghost about, nor heard of any of the other ghosts encountering one. As ghosts could, and did, move about invisibly, this wasn't conclusive proof, but it was highly vexing, for both men. Severus was beginning to suspect that, all of Lupin's examinations be damned, the map had developed a fault somehow.

"There's nothing for it. We're going to have to set up a watch or trap in Harry's dorm. That's where we've seen him the most." Lupin said with a sigh. "If the map's gone twisted, there won't be anything, but if it hasn't, that's our best chance of catching him and talking to him."

Severus was inclined to agree. The problem lay in setting the trap. If he went anywhere near Gryffindor Tower, the brats would run straight to McGonagall. It would mean depending on Lupin. As a former Gryffindor himself, not to mention honorary uncle to Harry, his presence in the Tower wouldn't be as remarked upon.

It took until nearly a week after Severus had resumed teaching classes for the two of them to work out a method to 'catch' Pettigrew. It was decided that until they knew for sure there was a ghost, any contraptions to actually catch one were going a bit overboard. They settled instead for a camera, Stuck to a corner against the ceiling by the door, where it would be able to photograph the entire room. Lupin Disillusioned it so the kids wouldn't see it and try to take it down. The tricky part, which is what took so long, was figuring out how to remotely snap a picture at the right time. Lupin also figured out a way to keep the flash from being seen, and therefore possibly scaring the ghost off (if there was one). Now all they had to do was sit back and wait.