Just after midnight on the 4th of November, 1991

Snape opened his eyes to find himself laid out on his sofa. He blinked, trying to remember the last moments before everything had gone blank.

"I help!" Harry had yelled, glaring up at him and squeezing his injured leg even tighter.

It had made the burning in his flesh increase painfully, making it difficult for him to remain calm.

And then something strange had happened. He remembered light—a great deal of it—expanding out from Harry's small form. He remembered the disturbing sensation of being wrapped in that same light, and the sudden frightening awareness that he couldn't breathe. The burning in his leg had reached new proportions of pain, and distantly he'd heard the frantic scratching of a quill on the parchment beside them.

Then . . . nothing.

"'Fessor?" Harry quipped softly from beside his head.

"Harry?" He answered just as softly, turning his head slowly to look into piercing green orbs.

"I make better," Harry answered happily; his face breaking into a smile as he fully observed the conscious Snape.

Slowly he pulled himself upright, immediately noticing the distinct lack of pain in his leg. Frowning, he reached down and rolled up his trouser leg, revealing his still bandaged leg. He unwrapped the bandages slowly, and then his eyes widened as he finally took in the sight of the appendage itself.

It was healed.

Shakily, he traced a thin finger down the outer edge of his flesh, where the bite had caused the most damage. There was nothing but a faint pink line visible from where his skin had knitted itself back together, but even that was hardly noticeable.

Carefully, he rolled his trouser leg down once more and then turned stunned eyes back to Harry.

"Harry . . ." he started, before trailing off, unsure exactly how or even what he wanted to say to the miraculous boy standing in front of him.

"My 'fessor feel betters?" Harry asked him, hands clasped together as he peered closely at Severus.

Severus nodded. "I do feel better, Harry," he answered. He patted the cushion beside him and then watched as Harry happily clambered up onto the sofa beside him.

"We Snakes, right 'fessor Snape?"

"We are," Severus nodded, wondering where their conversation was headed.

"So dat makes us family, right 'fessor Snape? Good family, right?" Harry's bright green eyes peered up at him trustingly from where he was perched on his knees just beside him.

"Yes, that makes us family," Severus answered, reaching out a long fingered hand and wrapping it carefully around Harry's much smaller one.

"The best, right?" Harry's voice was significantly softer this time, and on a whim Severus gently pulled the boy into his lap.

"The very best," Severus said softly, wrapping his other arm around Harry's middle and squeezing gently.

Harry leaned his head back on Severus' chest and then glanced sideways up at him. "I makes my 'fessor betters 'cause we family, so my 'fessor can take care of me too," he said, nodding to himself. "I makes my 'fessor better 'cause he's mine and I'm his and I think I loves him."

For a moment, Severus could do no more than breathe after hearing Harry's words.

"You think so, Harry?" He finally managed to ask, pointedly ignoring the wheeze in his voice.

"Uh huh," Harry nodded. "Can't remember lovin' no one else, but no one's ever been like my 'fessor, so I was thinkin' that if I feel about my 'fessor like he feels about me, then that's gotta be love, right?" Harry paused but didn't look like he was done speaking yet. "So if my 'fessor can loves me, then I can loves my 'fessor too," Harry said, smiling happily as he finished talking.

Severus' heart clenched hard at Harry's proclamation of love for him—for him, damn it.

"Thank you for telling me, Harry," he finally managed to say. "And thank you for healing my leg," he added a moment later.

Harry nodded with a smile, his eyes finally shutting from where he was securely pressed up against Severus' chest. Severus wasn't actually certain how the boy was still awake, considering the great expenditure of raw magic he had let loose thus far that evening.

"I go to sleeps now, 'fessor Snape," Harry murmured against his chest a few minutes later.

"Goodnight child," Severus whispered.

. . .

Later that same day

4 November, 1991
Healer: Hadwyn Long
Student: Harry Potter
Accompanying Guardian: Severus Snape

Hadwyn: Thank you for meeting with me again today, Harry.

Harry: [With a shrug]. My 'fessor says you might be ables to make my brain work better. My 'fessor's real smart. [He nods].

Hadwyn: He is, isn't he? [He glances at Severus with a smile].

Snape: [He rolls his eyes, but not while Harry is looking]. Do you want him to lie down again, Hadwyn?

Hadwyn: Yes. Like you were before, Harry.

Harry: 'Kays. [He moves down into place, dropping his head lightly into Severus' lap a moment later].

Side note: 'The shock of Harry's mind is still surprising, but slightly better if only because I know what I'm getting myself into this time. Typically, when encountering a new mind for the first time, I try to establish a connection with it, if only to ensure that it is aware that I am not a threat (hopefully preventing it from expelling me magically).'

'Harry's mind is busy, just as busy as it was the last time I visited, and the sheer amount of incoming data is very close to being overwhelming. Standing in the primary level of his mind is like standing in an overpopulated train station; bodies of thought push on me from every side, each vying for attention just as heartily as its neighbour.'

'Time doesn't seem to have a meaning here. I can see memories of today's breakfast, thoughts of the Slytherin dorms, rows of identical houses, an older woman with a house full of cats—and a few kneazles if I'm not mistaken, the sounds of a thin screechy voice screaming profanities, a multitude of Snape-like figures standing around watching, and images of a giant whale of a man with a purple-red face stumbling drunkenly towards me.

'The sky overhead is shifting in colours; first cloudy, then midnight, then sunny, followed by a dark gray slate coloured ceiling, blinking lights, flickering candles, trees overhead and then abruptly black with storm clouds. It's a myriad of madness if one were to stare at it long enough, and I learn to ignore it quickly after the first few revolutions.'

'"Harry?" I try asking thoughts around me. There should be at least some kind of central node or platform that these ideas are originating from. I would prefer to have Harry's mind meet up with mine, but if that's not possible, then I can at least attempt to follow these thought illustrations backwards.'

'It is enough for now. I have no idea how long I've been there. It could have been minutes or hours. There isn't a reliable way to tell, and the feel of frustration that meets that thought is stronger than I expect. It seems that Harry, at least on an instinctual level, agrees with me.'

Hadwyn: Harry? [He is blinking hard]. How long was that, Severus?

Severus: Just under two hours.

Hadwyn: Harry, how do you feel?

Harry: [He stares down at the floor for a few moments before shaking himself]. Kinda itchy.

Hadwyn: Your head or inside your mind?

Harry: I think my mind? Maybes?

End notes: 'I think that Harry simply does not have the language necessary to describe how he feels. It's not particularly uncommon actually. We are not taught words for explaining how it feels to have unfamiliar presences in our heads.'

. . .

Date: 5 November, 1991
House: Hufflepuff
Student Name: Morag MacDougal

Morag: Did you see the troll?

Sprout: Unfortunately, I did.

Morag: Was it huge?

Sprout: [She nods].

Morag: Bigger than Hagrid?

Sprout: Rather so!

Morag: Wow. That's just—I'm still having trouble believing I'm in a magical world, even after all this time.

Sprout: [She nods]. Just like the muggle world, there are dangerous creatures and wonderful ones. Some are more common, while others are only found once in a blue moon. Of course, some—like trolls—are actively ignored. There aren't too many students—or adults for that matter—who will actively seek a troll out.

Morag: But isn't that what Harry Potter did last week?

Sprout: From what I understand of Halloween night, Mr. Potter didn't purposely go looking for the troll itself. He merely encountered a side effect of it.

Morag: Have there ever been any wizards known especially for being able to work with trolls?

Sprout: [She thinks]. Some are better equipped for dealing with them. For instance, there is a particular area of study that is devoted to controlling trolls through magical means, but there aren't too many wizards who are very well versed in that branch of magic.

I believe that Professor Quirrell is the only wizard in this area who has taken any of the necessary coursework in that field, and even he is not yet a Master.

Morag: Professor Quirrell? You mean he can do magic at all?

Sprout: [She purses her lips]. I know that he is not a very impressive individual, but I do wish that you'd refrain from denigrating him in my presence.

Morag: Sorry Professor. [She looks honestly contrite].

Sprout: Some people are not very good public speakers, but that shouldn't detract from their worth overall.

End notes: 'Then again, some people are better theorists than empiricists.'

. . .

Date: 5 November, 1991
House: Hufflepuff
Student Name: Hannah Abbott

Hannah: Are always games played against Slytherin rough? My mum says that they have no sense of right and wrong, or what fair play is. [She is a bit nervous as she speaks].

Sprout: I wouldn't say that. In addition, I wouldn't automatically say that all Quidditch teams, regardless of what house they are in, always have particularly strict moral compasses.

Hannah: [She looks a bit surprised to hear this]. Even Hufflepuff?

Sprout: Even Hufflepuff has not been completely free of the drive to win no matter the cost. We may have seen less of that particular trait, but it has still been there. It is possible that some of our house members believe that Quidditch is the one thing where they can prove their worth to the denizens of the other houses.

Hannah: But that's so stupid! We're worth as much as the other houses already! [Her cheeks are a bit pink with righteous anger].

Sprout: [She smiles a bit]. I agree with you, but there are those—particularly among the testosterone-driven population—that have an undying need to prove their worth among the other students at this school.

Hannah: [Exasperated]. Why does it always come back to boys!

Sprout: Well . . . [her smile suddenly blossoms], they do make up half the school. It's bound to happen sooner or later.

Hannah: [She rolls her eyes]. I guess that explains why the Hufflepuff team is all boys this year.

Sprout: Actually, it's fairly unusual for our team to be made up entirely of one gender, although it does happen from time to time. I believe the last time we had an all girl's team was in the late 70s – the 1970s, that is of course.

Hannah: [She glances at Sprout shyly]. Did they kick arse?

Sprout: Quite. [She smiles in a pleased fashion at Hannah's question].

End notes: 'I wouldn't mind seeing an all girl's Quidditch team again either, regardless of the house. Wasn't there an all girl's Slytherin Quidditch team back in the 17th century? I have heard interesting rumours about them, Severus. Perhaps you could enlighten us . . . ?'

. . .

Date: 5 November, 1991
House: Hufflepuff
Student Name: Justin Finch-Fletchley

Justin: I don't think I shall be mentioning the presence of a troll to my parents.

Sprout: [Her lips quirk at his words]. I don't blame you for not. By the way, I got your results from Madame Pomfrey.

Justin: [He is instantly tense]. Oh?

Sprout: She says you're doing fine with your diet, but to be sure not to skip on the protein.

Justin: [Relaxing slightly]. Oh. All right.

Sprout: Did you think I was going to make you stop your diet?

Justin: [Eyeing her critically]. Yes.

Sprout: I wouldn't do that unless it was actually endangering your health. There have been students in the past that have become far more obsessed with their eating habits than is strictly healthy. A few have even had to spend time in St. Mungo's recuperating after going too far in the effort to be "thin enough."

Justin: [He purses his lips]. I thought that was just a problem with girls.

Sprout: [She gives a sad smile]. It is not. In my experience, the need to change one's body is a problem faced among boys and girls, regardless of the age. I think I should add that there is no such thing as being thin enough; there is only healthy and unhealthy.

Justin: Have any of those boys ever been in Hufflepuff?

Sprout: Yes.

Justin: [His eyes narrow thoughtfully]. I would think that this wouldn't be such a big deal in the wizarding world, what with robes and all.

Sprout: It is not as noticeable perhaps, because of robes, but the problem still exists since it's an issue with how one perceives one's self.

Justin: Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about me. [He grins suddenly]. I'm just trying to get into the healthy range.

Sprout: And Madame Pomfrey outlined precisely what that was?

Justin: [He nods]. She showed me a chart about heights and weights and how they correlate. She also said that I ought not to worry too much, since I was likely to get taller. Do you think there's an examination spell that can tell me how much taller? [He raises an eyebrow].

Sprout: I doubt there is one that can say exactly how much taller you'll get, since there are more factors than just your familial history to take into an account. The devil's snare can be very prolific in growth, but only if it encounters the correct conditions.

End notes: 'I do think we'll be revisiting this topic again, and likely sooner than later.'

. . .

Date: 6 November, 1991
House: Ravenclaw
Student Name: Lisa Turpin

Lisa: I don't know why you think I'm going to talk to you any longer.

Flitwick: Would you prefer to stare at me? I assure you, I think I can withstand it. [He gives a small smile].

Lisa: [With a petulant scowl]. Can I leave then?

Flitwick: Hm, I think not.

Lisa: [With an angry huff, she crosses her arms and slumps down in her seat].

Flitwick: Did you receive a response from your parents yet?

Lisa: [She narrows her eyes]. You already know I did. You got a response from them too.

Flitwick: They mentioned that you would be getting a fuller display of their unhappiness come Christmas. I simply wanted to ensure that you would be able to withstand their anger.

Side note: 'It's not that I think the Turpins will abuse their daughter, but I'd like to make completely sure.'

Lisa: [Surprised]. You think they're likely to beat me? I don't know what kind of family you hail from, but mine is not about to resort to something so . . . so plebian.

Side note: 'Perhaps Mr. Malfoy should make friends with Ms. Turpin.'

Flitwick: [Smiling gently]. I didn't think it was likely, but I wanted to make certain.

Lisa: I know that some muggle families beat their children, but to suggest that a wizarding one would do so is almost an insult! Magical families appreciate their offspring!

Flitwick: [Sighing]. Not always.

Lisa: [She stares distrustfully back at him].

Flitwick: Perhaps you should research the phenomenon.

End notes: 'Ah, youth. For someone who believes she knows everything, she certainly is rather ignorant.'

. . .

Date: 6 November, 1991
House: Ravenclaw
Student Name: Sabrina Fawcett

Sabrina: Do you suppose that the Sorting hat is aware of the problems faced by muggle-borns in Slytherin?

Side notes: 'Of all the potential questions she could have asked me, I wasn't actually prepared for that one.'

Flitwick: Hm. I think that at the very least, it is aware that muggle-borns are often not well met in Slytherin.

Sabrina: Was Slytherin really only in favour of only in letting purebloods to Hogwarts? That seems like more of a rumour to me, because surely he would have been smart enough to realise that without new blood, the old blood will eventually die out, right?

Flitwick: [Sighing]. While there are those who believe that muggle-borns and half-bloods bring "inferior" magic to the gene pool, thereby diluting its potency, that's not the only reason for the purebloods of Slytherin's day to have wanted to limit their interactions with muggle-borns.

Muggle-borns at that time were, as a result of the different hygienic standards set by those outside the wizarding community, typically less healthy, less clean and generally more disease ridden than their wizarding counterparts.

In addition, if a child of a muggle family were to be discovered to have magical ability, then it was likely that the family would either disown said child, or even go so far as to try and murder it.

Sabrina: [Her eyes are wide with surprise].

Flitwick: Therefore, since I don't know any better, I can't make any judgments about why Slytherin preferred to align himself with purebloods. If we could find his portrait, we might be able to ask him, but that would only work if he were willing to speak to anyone.

Sabrina: You mean his portrait is lost? In Hogwarts or somewhere else?

Flitwick: Hogwarts, I believe. That is where it was seen last.

Sabrina: [She nods].

End notes: 'I don't mind spending time explaining that history to someone. I personally believe that it is not spread around enough.'

. . .

Date: 6 November, 1991
House: Ravenclaw
Student Name: Michael Corner

Michael: Do trolls and other wild creatures get into the castle very often around here?

Flitwick: Not very often. [He answers with a mild smile].

Michael: But it does happen then? [He raises a critical eyebrow].

Flitwick: Infrequently.

Michael: What was the last occurrence?

Flitwick: Of a troll or something else?

Michael: Both. [He grins].

Flitwick: Generally I don't keep such knowledge at the forefront of my mind, but given how inquisitive you and your housemates are, I went and did a little research into the matter.

Michael: [His smile widens].

Flitwick: Let's see here . . . the last troll that managed to make its way into Hogwarts was in . . . [He scans through a stack of notes that he pulled from the desk behind him] . . . 1907, winter that is. Apparently it was cold and thought Hogwarts would be a pleasant place to warm up. [He raises his eyebrows in a meaningful way towards Michael].

Michael: [He bursts into surprised laughter]. I doubt that the students felt the same way!

Flitwick: No, they did not. [His face is abruptly sombre].

Michael: [Gulping and serious now]. What happened to it? [He whispers].

Flitwick: [He squints down at his notes for a moment]. It was killed.

Michael: [His eyebrows rise until they are hidden under his bangs]. H-How?

Flitwick: Pardon?

Side note: 'I understand what he wants, I'm just not certain he truly wishes to be given the answer to his question.'

Michael: [He clears his throat]. H-How was it killed?

Flitwick: [He licks his lips and then looks Michael in the eye directly]. It was disembowelled.

Michael: [His face turns a bit green]. Surely that was—I mean, wasn't that a bit of overkill?

Flitwick: Trolls are dangerous creatures, Mr. Corner.

Michael: But, but couldn't they have just stunned it or you know . . . [he begins breathing faster], tied it up or knocked it out or something?

Flitwick: [His shoulders droop a bit before he answers]. And then what would they have done with it?

Michael: [He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out] . . . released it maybe? [He finally manages to say].

Flitwick: Where? Into the wild where it would likely wind up killing some other hapless people?

Michael: [He only shakes his head]. I don't know—I guess, I guess you're right.

Flitwick: [He gives Michael a strained smile]. The problem is that there isn't a suitable place to put them, Mr. Corner, and despite trolls being magical creatures, they are still only that. Creatures. Dangerous creatures – at least according to the Ministry of Magic.

Michael: [He nods slowly, as though in a daze].

Flitwick: Would you like to learn about any of the other wild creatures who have found their ways in Hogwarts throughout the years? [He asks in a gentle voice].

Michael: [Wordlessly he shakes his head "no"].

Flitwick: I wish I could tell you better things, child.

End notes: 'Tell the truth and let them make their opinions. I've long believed that to be better than telling a half-truth and then making them believe something foreign to their own experiences.'

. . .

Date: 7 November, 1991
House: Gryffindor
Student Name: Ronald Weasley

Ron: What do you think of Granger? You think she's stable?

McGonagall: [Silence as she pauses thoughtfully]. I think she is a troubled young girl with a potentially brilliant mind.

Ron: She uh, she offered to teach me defence – you know, to make up for what Quirrell's not teaching us.

McGonagall: [She purses her lips]. And you're wondering if you'll be safe if you take her up on her offer?

Ron: Pretty much. [He smiles sheepishly].

McGonagall: Why is she offering at all? She does not seem like the type to voluntarily spend time with anyone, let alone a Gryffindor.

Ron: Uh well uh, she just did is all.

McGonagall: [Gives him a stern look of disbelief].

Ron: Said I was pretty pathetic too. Didn't want me getting tripped up in the halls, I think.

McGonagall: [Her face softens]. Has someone been targeting you, Mr. Weasley?

Ron: Hm? Oh no ma'am, nothing beyond the usual with my brothers. Just I think she was trying to be careful in case I ever did get into trouble. That's all. [He nods].

McGonagall: [Her eyes narrow in suspicion]. And is trouble something you plan on purposely seeking out?

Ron: [His eyes go wide]. No ma'am!

McGonagall: Hm. Well, see that you don't. As for Ms. Granger, I think that it may be safe to take her up on her offer, but only if you tread carefully with her. She seems like she could use a friend. Though do try to keep from insulting her, Mr. Weasley. Besides, if you're the one she has offered to help, then I think it would be rude to turn down that help.

Ron: I wouldn't want her to think I was being rude on purpose!

Side note: 'No, we only allow accidental rudeness here.'

McGonagall: I daresay that would be an unwise move on your part, Mr. Weasley.

End note: 'Not to mention what she might do in retribution should you turn down her offer.'

. . .

Date: 7 November, 1991
House: Gryffindor
Student Name: Neville Longbottom

Neville: Ma'am, how did Harry get the troll out of the castle?

McGonagall: [She sighs]. We're not entirely sure.

Neville: We're?

McGonagall: The headmaster and the other faculty and staff.

Neville: Don't you have any idea at all?

McGonagall: [Her lips purse irritably]. I can tell you what happened, but not how. By all accounts, Harry simply walked up to the troll, had a conversation with it and then led it by the hand out of the castle.

Neville: [His eyes are wide, and his mouth is in an "O" shape]. How could that be possible? Doesn't anyone have any ideas?

McGonagall: We have plenty of ideas, Mr. Longbottom. What we are decidedly short on though is facts.

Neville: What do you think happened?

McGonagall: I think . . . I think that Mr. Potter's altered mental state allowed him to make connections with the troll where a typical human being would not be able to manage.

Neville: [He nods]. That makes a lot of sense. There's plenty of history to back your theory up too.

McGonagall: Not all of which is true though.

Neville: Like how Professor Dumbledore's brother claimed he could talk to goats? [His eyes are wide, his demeanour overly innocent].

McGonagall: [Mild pinkness abruptly suffuses her cheeks]. Somewhat like that, yes Mr. Longbottom.

Neville: [He smiles].

McGonagall: One would think you asked that question just to try and get a reaction, Mr. Longbottom. [Her eyes narrow in accusation].

Neville: [Unruffled]. I overheard my Gran say something about it, but she refused to give me any kind of straight answer afterwards.

McGonagall: Probably a good idea. [She looks sternly back at him].

Neville: [Suddenly twisting his fingers together nervously]. Can I go now?

McGonagall: It's "May I go, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville: Um, right. May I go now?

McGonagall: [Narrowing her eyes]. I suggest you do it quickly.

End note: 'Not a question I expected to get thrust upon me during a session with this boy, for certain. And yes, my wording was not accidental.'

. . .

Date: 7 November, 1991
House: Gryffindor
Student Name: Parvati Patil

Parvati: Do a lot of students stay over the holidays?

McGonagall: It differs from year to year, but there are usually at least a few from each house, if not more.

Parvati: Why do students stay?

McGonagall: Hm, some stay because their families are out of the country. Some stay because they enjoy the peace and quiet. Sometimes there is an event that is taking place over the holidays, so more students stay in order to participate. [She suddenly frowns]. Then again, some stay because they know they will have a better Christmas here than they will at home.

Parvati: They don't miss their parents?

McGonagall: Not all students live with their parents. Might I ask what has brought on this round of questions?

Parvati: [She twiddles with a strand of hair]. I just remembered last week during Halloween how Harry Potter was orphaned that night. Will he be going home during the holidays?

McGonagall: He will not be.

Parvati: [She raises her eyebrows]. You already know?

McGonagall: Professor Snape . . . [she hesitates very briefly] . . . has already informed us about Mr. Potter's decision.

Parvati: Oh. Well that's good. I guess. This is where his parents went to school after all. Though how Professor Snape can have a conversation with him is anyone's guess . . . [she trails off when she notices McGonagall staring darkly at her]. What?

McGonagall: Professor Snape doesn't have any problems communicating with Mr. Potter.

Side note: 'Not a lie, precisely, but I didn't want her to continue thinking that Harry was some kind of idiot.'

Parvati: Oh well, I guess that Professor Snape knows how to talk to him or something, because we haven't figured it out yet.

McGonagall: [Still looking severe]. We?

Parvati: Oh, Padma and I.

McGonagall: She has begun speaking with you again?

Parvati: Well, yeah. [She blushes under McGonagall's unblinking stare]. It took some talking, but we're okay now, I think.

McGonagall: Hmm, I suppose you are to be commended for that.

End note: 'Although it would probably be better for Padma Patil without the influence of her sister clouding her judgment.'

. . .

9 November, 1991 – Saturday morning
1st Quidditch match of the season
Slytherin/Gryffindor

Harry was seated in the stands beside the other Slytherins, cheering and shouting as their team scored again and again with the quaffle. He didn't quite understand everything that was going on, but he knew that they were ahead and that all they needed to do to win was find the snitch. He'd been watching carefully, but he hadn't seen it all since Madame Hooch had released it at the beginning of the game.

On one side of him sat Vince and on the other side was Millicent Bulstrode. They had apparently decided to surround him, to make sure he was safe. He wasn't entirely certain what he needed to be kept safe from, since he was surrounded by his Snake family, but he appreciated that they cared enough to do something like that for him.

Of course, he couldn't put all of that into words—let alone most of it—but it didn't stop him from trying.

Abruptly, the incredible sound surrounding him just died down. He looked around in confusion, and then pulled on Millicent's sleeve.

"Milly, why's all quiet?" He asked, speaking in a whisper.

She pointed to the sky and said, "Look at Terrence. Something's happening to his broom."

Harry looked in the direction she was pointing and his eyes went wide in shock. Terrence Higgs' broom was bucking and twisting back and forth, almost as though it was trying to throw its rider off!

Silently, they watched as the Slytherin's seeker slowly lost hold of his broom. Harry drew his legs up to his chest and started rocking back and forth; muttering to himself as he did, "Don't like this! Don't like this!"

And then, a great shout went up from the stands as Terrence suddenly lost hold of his broom completely and began hurtling towards the earth.

"No!" Harry yelled and then without thinking, he began running down the metal stands, intent on getting down the stairs to find his 'fessor.

Behind him he heard Millicent and Vince yelling some unusual words – he'd have to ask his friend what "son of a dementor's whore" meant later on. He just hoped he could remember.

There was a pop of displaced air beside him and suddenly Caddy was running down the stairs beside him.

"Young master Vincent told me to keep you within my sights, young master!" Caddy told him in a loud voice as he hopped down the steps keeping up with him easily.

"Gotta finds my 'fessor!" Harry bellowed back.

The rest of the trip down was a blur. All Harry wanted to do was find his 'fessor and then see Terry. Terry had been really good about talking to him about how important a Seeker's job was within a Quidditch game, along with the sorts of strategies that were typically used. He liked Terry a lot and didn't want to think about what it would be like if something had happened to his friend.

. . .

Date: 10 November, 1991
House: Slytherin
Student Name: Vincent Crabbe
Lives with: Mother and Father
Siblings: One older sister, graduated from Hogwarts in 1989.
Blood status: Pureblood
Magic levels: Average, potential for growth
Last owl received from family: 7 November, 1991.

Ongoing impressions: 'A rather mature young man – more so than he appears to the casual observer. Now to figure out what makes him tick, and what he wants from life.'

Vince: Is Harry still waiting in the infirmary?

Side notes: 'Harry has refused to leave Mr. Higgs' side ever since I brought him in on a magicked stretcher. He seems to be under the misunderstanding that Higgs will not recover without his stalwart presence at his side.'

Snape: Yes, unfortunately. I made him leave last night in order to sleep in the dormitories, but directly after breakfast he went back and has not left since, I believe.

Vince: Why won't he leave? He won't answer me with anything other than, "Terry is family! Family is important!"

Snape: [Giving a small smile to his young Snake]. To Harry, family is very important.

Vince: [Dropping his gaze to his feet]. His family never really cared much about him, did they?

Snape: [He sighs and his previous smile disappears]. No, they did not. Thankfully, Harry will never have to return there. We are his new family, Vince.

Vince: [He nods swiftly, swallowing hard]. He really likes Terrence. He's been really good to Harry, talking to him about Quidditch when the rest of the team just sort of put up with him.

Snape: In a way, we are all brothers to him.

Vince: 'Cept you. [He suddenly grins and looks up through eyes that are vaguely red rimmed]. You're his daddy.

Snape: Pardon? [His eyebrows raise and he swallows hard].

Vince: Aw come on. You don't know? You're his most important person in his life. If you say something can be done, then by Merlin, Harry's going to figure out a way to do it, because you said so.

Snape: That doesn't mean that I am to be his father.

Vince: [Raising an incredulous eyebrow]. You're his guardian, at least according to Hogwarts and Slytherin rules. He doesn't have any other 'fessors. Only you. Everyone else he calls 'Pr'fessor.' Besides, it's not like you want him to think of you as an Uncle. He still has nightmares about his other uncle.

Snape: How did you get to be so astute, Vince?

Vince: [Suddenly turning red]. It's not so hard to see when you're used to wanting the same thing.

Snape: Vince. [He says softly].

Vince: Yeah well, mine's still alive. Doesn't make it any better though. [His smile is bitter and abruptly he stands up]. I gotta leave now. I don't fancy crying in front of you.

Snape: Vince! [He calls out as Vince runs out the door].

End notes: 'Now that Vince has put it so bluntly, I can see what he means. Is this what denial feels like? What's worse, I don't think I mind the idea of having Harry as a son. And Vince, I only hope you can tell me more later about your own situation.'

. . .

Date: 10 November, 1991
House: Slytherin
Student Name: Hermione Granger
Lives with: Mother and Father
Siblings: None
Roommates: Millicent Bulstrode
Blood status: Muggle born.
Magic levels: Semi-powerful
Last owl received from family: 7 November, 1991

Ongoing impressions: 'I'm not sure if she is angry at her family for something done to her, or because they did not do something to save her when she was in need of saving. Beyond that, all I have are suppositions and half-formed hypotheses.'

Granger: Are you sure it's safe to leave Harry by himself all day in the infirmary?

Side note: 'She wishes to come across as uncaring, but this question of hers shows otherwise.'

Snape: What have you heard? Do you think he's actively in danger?

Granger: [Narrowing her eyes defensively]. Draco Malfoy's not the only one who doesn't like him, you know.

Side note: 'Alas, but I do know. A Slytherin hears many things, even the adult ones.'

Snape: I have heard . . . murmurings here and there in the hallways, but nothing finite. I will tell you this however—the infirmary is one of the most warded places in the castle. Hogwarts herself is very protective of the students and those found in the infirmary, and has not—to my knowledge—ever allowed anyone to be attacked there.

Granger: [She relaxes slightly]. Why do you call the castle a girl?

Snape: [He raises an eyebrow]. It is traditional to do so. Buildings and large craft are typically given a female pronoun. Feel free to research it, if you wish. You will probably not find one single definitive answer though.

Granger: [She frowns]. Terrence Higgs' broom was cursed yesterday. It had to have been someone who was in the area, especially at that power level.

Side note: 'She did not say it in the form of a question, but her eyes are watching me as though to see if I agree.'

Snape: [He nods]. I concur with your hypothesis, Ms.—Mister Granger.

Granger: [The slightest smile creeps onto her/his face].

Snape: I would ask for you to tell me if you see anything or anyone acting peculiar, please.

Granger: [S/he nods slightly]. I can do that. And by the way . . .

Snape: Yes Mr. Granger?

Granger: [Hir smile increases]. I decided that you can call me Hermes . . . if you want. [S/he whispers].

Snape: I would like to, Hermes.

End notes: 'Progress is progress.'

. . .

Date: 10 November, 1991
House: Slytherin
Student Name: Draco Malfoy
Lives with: Mother and Father
Siblings: None
Roommates: Gregory Goyle and Theodore Nott
Blood status: Pureblood
Magic levels: Above average
Last owl received from family: 8 November, 1991

Ongoing impressions: 'I look forward to seeing what afflictions he will show up with this week.'

Draco: [He skips into Snape's office with a dark glare toward his professor. He cannot stop hiccupping and his hair is bright red with gold streaks. His nose has been transfigured to look like a pig's snout, and his hands are webbed. When he turns to sit, one can see that he now has a long hairless rat's tail sticking out from under his robes (which are pink)]. Don'th say *hic* anythingth.

Snape: [Blinking mildly, but he manages to keep his smile hidden]. Hasn't anyone ever told you that bright pink and red clash, Mr. Malfoy?

Draco: Shuth *hic* upth. [His tongue is forked and it is causing an unfortunate lisp]. *Hic*.

Snape: I healed Mr. Urquhart's jelly legs within moments of your casting it, although I can see that his curse has not worn off yet. Tell me, have you found your tail to be of any use?

Draco: Shuth *hic* *hic* upth. I don'th *hic* wanth *hic* *hic* to hear *hic* ith from you's *hic* *hic* *hic*.

Snape: Would you like to end this now and apologize to your house like a good little snake? [His face finally morphs into a cold grin].

Draco: [Still glaring]. I'dth *hic* ratherth eath a *hic* cockatrice *hic* *hic*.

Snape: I'm sure that could be arranged.

End notes: 'I do hope the Weasley twins are still taking pictures, Minerva. In the meantime, does anyone have a cockatrice I could borrow?'

. . .

Date: 10 November, 1991
House: Slytherin
Student Name: Harry Potter
Lives with: As head of his house, I am now his official guardian, per Slytherin bylaws. His Aunt's family is currently on wizarding trial for child abuse.
Siblings: None
Ongoing infirmary report: He is taking a variety of nutritional potions with each and every meal, and he will continue taking a full body soak in essence of murtlap every week in the infirmary bathroom until the holiday break. At that time, we shall re-evaluate.

Roommates: Vincent Crabbe and Blaise Zabini.
Blood status: 1st generation pureblood (as per the new rules; half-blood via the old rules)
Magic levels: Powerful
Last owl received from:

Ongoing impressions: 'Given that he is still refusing to leave the infirmary, I have decided to move his session there for tonight. Hopefully Mr. Higgs will have awoken by next week and this will no longer be a concern.'

'As to him wanting me as a daddy . . . the idea is beginning to grow in my mind.'

Harry: [His feet are swinging off the side of the hard chair he has been sitting in for most of the day]. Is my Terry gonnas be okays, 'fessor Snape? [His eyes are big and green as he stares hopefully up at Snape].

Snape: [Transfiguring another hard chair into a semi-plump armchair, he sits down and indicates that Harry should join him]. I would hope so, Harry. [He pulls Harry off of the arm of the chair and into his lap].

Harry: [He curls up into a tiny ball, resting his head against Snape's chest as he does so]. I coulds make betters, 'fessor Snape. [He whispers]. I can fix?

Snape: No Harry. [He lays a hand on Harry's arm]. This isn't like fixing a bite or a broken bone. Terrence is in a magical coma. What he needs now is time.

Harry: [His face droops into a mournful frown]. What ifs he's all lost-like? What if he can't finds his way backs? Terry is family. [He nods and then wipes a hasty hand under his glasses where his tears have started to form].

Snape: [He rubs a gentle hand through Harry's hair]. Then we'll help him find his way back. Terry is a snake and we don't forget our snakes.

Harry: Nevers! [His eyes are sad, but his voice is defiant].

Snape: Hermes was worried about you, Harry. Sh—He doesn't like how you're sitting here all alone. Do you think you could ask Hermes to sit with you sometime? [His voice is mild, but his eyes are intense].

Harry: I can asks! Hermes is family too. [He nods enthusiastically].

Snape: Hermes says you are his brother.

Harry: [A smile passes over his face]. For always and evers. Just likes my 'fessor Snape. Loves my Hermes. Loves my 'fessor. Yes yes yes.

Snape: [In a whisper]. I love my Harry.

Harry: [Relaxing into Snape's chest]. Forevers.

Side note: 'It is not a question, but I feel like agreeing nonetheless.'

Snape: Forever.

End notes: 'He didn't say the word, but he said the meaning. Vince is right. Perhaps it is time to start learning how to make this a reality.'