28 October, 1991
Healer: Hadwyn Long
Student: Harry Potter
Accompanying Guardian: Severus Snape

Hadwyn: Harry, I want you to stretch out on the sofa and—yes, that's right, put your head on Severus' lap. [He waits as Harry finishes shifting before continuing]. Now, turn your head this way and I just want you to look at me.

Harry: [In a whisper]. You gonna look into my insides?

Hadwyn: [With a smile]. Not quite that far.

Side notes: 'I try not to have any preconceived notions of what to expect when going into a new mind for the first time. It was just as well in this case, considering that sinking into Harry's mind is unlike any other thing I have ever experienced.'

'Pushing through the darkness at the top level is to be expected, with a very few exceptions here and there (primarily serial killers and newborn dragons, for whatever reason). However, below that level is the point that most people tend to keep their thoughts sequestered at. One tends to encounter an audible voice dictating that mind's current thoughts. In other cases, an actual physical presence is encountered and conversations can be initiated.'

'In Harry's case, that first glance was akin to stepping out from a well lit pub into a busy street, only to have the Knight Bus suddenly drop atop your head. Harry's mind is brightly lit with flashing lights, overly pungent aromas and bizarre clanging sounds that serve to completely throw off the passive viewer. Luckily, I am anything but.'

'If this is what he encounters on a daily basis, then I would say that it is no surprise that his behaviour is as odd and as sporadic as it appears to the typical observer. The sheer level of incoming stimuli that he apparently works through every day is tiring to shift through and must be experienced in small doses, lest exhaustion take over and trap you there with him.'

Hadwyn: Harry? [He whispers as he comes out of Harry's mind].

Harry: [Blinking owlishly]. 'Fessor Snape? [Also in a whisper].

Snape: Harry? Hadwyn? Are you two quite all right?

Harry: Think so. [He sits up and then wedges himself tightly against Snape's side].

Hadwyn: [After glancing briefly towards Snape]. How does your head feel?

Harry: [Rubbing his face against Snape's side]. Wiggly.

Hadwyn: [Raising an eyebrow].

Snape: The same as it did when you talked to the tree?

Harry: [Eyes brightening]. Yeahs.

Snape: [Nodding, he rubs a hand over Harry's head].

End notes: 'Harry seems no worse than usual after our first—albeit brief—encounter. Severus seems to have had an epiphany of some sort. I plan on asking about it later, preferably after I have downed one of his headache potions. Harry's mind has worn me out a bit, I fear, but that is not completely unexpected. The first venture into an unknown mind setting is typically wearying, but gets better with subsequent visits. I shall hope that this trend holds true here as well.'

. . .

Date: 29 October, 1991
House: Hufflepuff
Student Name: Morag MacDougal

Sprout: So how are you liking your classes this week? Do you consider any of them to be a favourite yet?

Morag: Uh, well . . .

Sprout: Yes dear?

Morag: I really am starting to like charms.

Sprout: Wonderful!

Morag: Did you know that there are charms to do just about anything in your daily life?

Sprout: Which ones have you learned about so far?

Morag: Well, Professor Flitwick hasn't really gone over many of the ones in the book yet, but I've been reading ahead a little.

Sprout: And? [She smiles encouragingly].

Morag: It seems like for every chore that my mother does—or every chore that a regular muggle family has to spend its time on, there are wizarding charms that do exactly the same thing. Like, you can teach your bed how to make itself, or charm your scrub brush how to clean your pots without any supervision! Isn't that amazing? I do wonder though . . .

Sprout: What do you wonder?

Morag: Well, I don't know what the magical world knows about movies, but there was this animated one called Fantasia. It's been out for about 50 years or so—according to what my mother says in the last letter I got from her. There's this part where one of the characters in a piece called "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" gets a hold of his Sorcerer's magical hat and charms the brooms to do his work.

Sprout: I take it that this adventure of his does not end well? [She asks, leaning forwards in her chair a bit].

Morag: You could say that. [She smiles]. The brooms don't know when to stop and nearly wreck everything in the end. Luckily, the sorcerer comes back in time and fixes the apprentice's mess.

Sprout: Ah. [She smiles]. And you were wondering if this sort of thing ever happens in our magical world?

Morag: Well, I know that the story in Fantasia is just a story, but it does seem pretty possible, don't you think?

Sprout: It does. [She nods]. In fact, I know of more than a few students who have gotten in trouble when they didn't watch a new spell closely enough.

Morag: You do! Were any of them muggle borns?

Sprout: Muggleborns and half-bloods and purebloods. It doesn't matter what someone is, eventually everyone makes mistakes.

Morag: [A thoughtful expression appears on her face]. I wonder if it would help any for new students to be shown something like that scene in the Sorcerer's Apprentice? Maybe not the movie itself, but something like a show or a play!

Sprout: It might help in some cases, but for many witches and wizards, mistakes must be experienced firsthand for the lessons to really sink in.

End note: 'A nice diversion from our usual repertoire.'

. . .

Date: 29 October, 1991
House: Hufflepuff
Student Name: Hannah Abbott

Hannah: My mum says to tell you that she did break her nose in that game, but it was because she got hit with a curse from the Slytherin Keeper right before that.

Sprout: Oh my. [She puts a hand up to her mouth]. Did she mention whether or not that person ever got in charged for it? Cursing another player during an official Quidditch game is often grounds for dismissal for that student from the team, if not the establishment itself.

Hannah: [Shaking her head]. She said that the person's parents were very influential in the Ministry, and she never could get the charges to stick.

Sprout: [Narrowing her eyes thoughtfully]. Did your mother mention who this person is?

Hannah: [Shaking her head]. She said it didn't matter, because they eventually threw their lot in with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and died in his service.

Sprout: Ah. I see. [Her posture droops a bit].

Hannah: Were there many like that?

Sprout: Hm?

Hannah: Were there many of your students like that? Ones that went dark and that you never heard from again?

Sprout: Some. [Her voice is faint and her eyes are staring off at the wall behind Hannah's head]. But going dark wasn't the only reason we stopped hearing from people. [She shakes her head and the light comes back into her eyes. She glances back in Hannah's direction]. There were those who left the country, heading for supposedly safe areas like America, while others simply just disappeared.

Hannah: [Her eyes are wide]. Did you ever find out what happened to those who disappeared?

Sprout: [Giving a weak smile]. Unfortunately, yes. Most died. Of those, a good many were tortured for information, I suspect. I didn't see a great many of the bodies afterwards, but I saw enough. [She pauses, thinking]. I probably shouldn't have mentioned that. [She smiles apologetically].

Hannah: [Shaking her head in argument]. No. I want to know. My aunt and uncle both died in the war, but no one ever says anything about how or why they did. I don't even know what side they were on.

Sprout: It wasn't just a question of being Light or Dark. [She murmurs softly].

Hannah: How do you mean?

Sprout: Many of the major family heads decided which direction they'd be going, leaving those younger members no choice but to go along or be kicked out of the family. Sirius Black was one of those, but of course, it's hard to ignore the pull of one's family forever. In addition, there were more than a few that tried to remain neutral, although I can't say that it always worked out for them.

Hannah: Sirius Black . . . he's in Azkaban, isn't he?

Sprout: He is. [She nods]. I taught him. [She closes her eyes briefly and gives a sad laugh]. It seems almost like yesterday that he was here, making jokes and carousing around with his friends.

Hannah: Who were his friends? Would my mum have known any of them?

Sprout: [She opens her eyes and blinks a few times before speaking]. Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and of course James Potter. Of those, only Remus Lupin is still alive, though I have no idea where he is. I daresay that if two of my friends were killed because of the actions of another friend, I'd likely not still be around either.

Hannah: [Nodding slowly]. Maybe I'll ask my mum about them. See if she knows anything. [She shrugs].

Sprout: [Smiling sadly]. Tell me what she has to say, if you would. I'd like to hear it.

Hannah: Sure. [She smiles back].

End notes: 'Given the actions of those in the war, it still surprises me that Hogwarts even has any students in this generation.'

. . .

Date: 29 October, 1991
House: Hufflepuff
Student Name: Justin Finch-Fletchley

Sprout: How goes your week?

Justin: I keep being amazed by the constant discussion of Halloween.

Sprout: Oh? [She smiles gently]. Do your parents not celebrate it?

Justin: Not any more than the typical Muggle family—probably less, actually. My mother has never been very enthusiastic towards holidays that cause any sort of mess, and Halloween seems to be the epitome of mess making.

Sprout: In what way?

Justin: [He raises an eyebrow for a brief moment before continuing]. Rotten eggs, slimy creatures, shaving cream . . . really, a typical Muggle Halloween is rather similar to a bad Potions class. [He gives a bitter bark of laughter].

Sprout: Have your housemates explained what Halloween is like in the magical community?

Justin: Mostly. [He smiles coolly]. Either way there seems to be an awful lot of unhealthy food consumption, and I am already on a rather strict diet. I'd prefer for my willpower not to be tested so thoroughly, if it's all the same to everyone else.

Sprout: Are you not planning on attending?

Justin: The thought has crossed my mind. Hence, why I'm bringing it up now. Does one need special permission to not attend a feast?

Sprout: [Looking thoughtful]. What will you eat instead?

Justin: Probably a granola bar and some fruit. My mother sends the granola bars to me by the box it seems like, some weeks.

Sprout: Will that be enough to satisfy your appetite?

Justin: [Gazing back at the slightly plump witch with an analytical eye]. Look, I don't know how much you know about muggle diets, but the whole point seems to be centred around not satisfying your appetite. [He smiles grimly].

Sprout: [Narrowing her eyes at him in concern]. Have you spoken with Madame Pomfrey about your eating habits? I think that she should at least be informed.

Justin: [Briefly scowling]. I fail to see why. It's not as though I'm starving. I mean, look at me. I'm a walking quaffle. [He snorts at his own joke].

Sprout: [Beginning to frown]. I think that you've exaggerated your plight a bit. I would prefer not to make it mandatory, but I can if you still refuse to talk with Madame Pomfrey.

Justin: Must I? [His voice has taken on a whining quality].

Sprout: How about we think of it like this? You are excused from the feast if you voluntarily visit the infirmary and get a check-up. [She smiles gently at his unhappy face].

Justin: You know, you can be rather Slytherin like sometimes.

Sprout: [Her smile spreads across her face]. I believe that I shall take that as a compliment.

End notes: 'And yes Mr. Finch-Fletchley, I am actually familiar with Muggle diets. I also have had more than a handful of students, both male and female, develop eating disorders over the years in various attempts to become thinner.'

. . .

Date: 30 October, 1991
House: Ravenclaw
Student Name: Lisa Turpin

Flitwick: I do not care for the fact that you lied to me last week.

Lisa: [Narrowing her eyes defensively]. What do you mean?

Flitwick: [Frowning]. Do not play coy with me. For instance, I know that you purposely soaked your gloves in corrosive potion in an ill-thought out attempt to con your parents into buying you new ones.

Lisa: [Her jaw drops open for a brief second, before closing with an audible click]. Did that little whiner Parvati Patil tell you that? [She asks with a scowl]. You really shouldn't believe what that girl says. She's a liar and—.

Flitwick: Stop! [His anger causes a few empty glass vials to explode and a stack of books to topple over with a loud crash].

Lisa: [She flinches backwards into her chair].

Flitwick: I do not wish for you to lie to my face with such ease. [He says in an angry hiss].

Lisa: [Shocked into silence].

Flitwick: You underestimate me because I am small. You are not the first, and you are by far not the last. [He shakes his head angrily]. Perhaps you're used to being smarter than everyone else around you? Hm? [He raises an eyebrow reminiscent of Professor Snape]. Let me try to get something through to you now, Ms. Turpin. I am smarter than you.

Likewise, Professor Snape is smarter than you. He told me of your attempt to garner pity for yourself while in his classroom for detention. Do you think he doesn't layer his classroom and office with recording spells? He is a Slytherin, Ms. Turpin. That's not a euphemism for blind.

[He pauses and takes a few deep, steadying breaths]. I do not appreciate you using your intellect in an effort to mislead your teachers, especially me.

Lisa: I'm sorry. [She whispers].

Side note: 'Sorry to be caught, likely as not.'

Flitwick: [Shaking his head slowly as he glares back at her]. I want you to write a six inch scroll of apology for both Professor Snape, as well as for your parents.

Lisa: [She flinches at the mention of her parents].

Flitwick: Do make sure that you explain what happened and why you thought it would work. [He smiles in an altogether unhappy manner]. You are dismissed, Ms. Turpin. Bring your missives to class on Friday.

End notes: 'Just because I am not forceful and direct all the time does not mean I cannot be at all. I simply prefer not to do so. I did not enjoy this session any more than Ms. Turpin did, but it was needed. I hope that she chooses a better path from here, but only time will tell.'

. . .

Date: 30 October, 1991
House: Ravenclaw
Student Name: Sabrina Fawcett

Flitwick: Are you looking forward to Halloween?

Sabrina: [She shrugs one shoulder].

Flitwick: Sabrina? [He asks in a soft voice].

Sabrina: Is there a way to look up how many orphans were created by the last war? [She asks after some more silence].

Flitwick: Not in such a direct manner, but you could go to the Office of Records and search for children whose parents are listed as murdered—particularly those who died from say, 1970 to 1985 or so.

Sabrina: [She nods. Her eyes are very distant though].

Flitwick: Why do you ask, child?

Sabrina: [She shrugs again, blinking a few times furiously]. I don't see why we must celebrate something that means so much pain to one of my friends.

Side note: 'I am not certain I understand what she is trying to say to me, but I shall take a guess and hope that it is correct.'

Flitwick: Halloween?

Sabrina: [She nods, biting her lips as she looks away]. Harry lost his parents Halloween night, and look what has happened to him since. I don't think I want to go to the feast on Thursday. I don't think I can. [This last sentence is whispered].

Flitwick: [He climbs down from his stool and reaches out his hands to gently grasp her own]. Child.

Sabrina: [She glances in his direction; her eyes filled with tears that have not yet fallen]. You know—You know about my parents, don't you? [She whispers].

Flitwick: [He slowly nods]. I know that they were killed by Death Eaters in the early 80s, but I do not know any more than that.

Sabrina: [She swallows hard, nodding almost as though she is unaware of the movement]. I love how delusion people can be. Harry Potter defeated Lord What's-His-Name and suddenly all of his followers disappeared too. Ha! [Her laugh is bitter].

Side note: 'And rightfully bitter.'

Flitwick: [Nodding]. The people involved know better, but for the others, the ones who only read about it in the papers or heard through word of mouth, it's easier not to question the lies that they have been fed. [He squeezes Sabrina's hands lightly]. It's easier not to care. [He adds softly].

Sabrina: I wish I could stop caring. [She whispers].

Flitwick: Don't. [His voice is insistent enough to make her really look at him].

Sabrina: It wouldn't hurt so much if only I could stop caring.

Flitwick: Apathy doesn't listen to reason. It stretches over into all parts of your life, not just this one. And then, perhaps twenty years later, you look up and realise that you have wasted your life and for nothing.

Sabrina: [She brings her knees up and releases Flitwick's hands to wrap them around her legs]. I try not to get stuck thinking about them—thinking about what my life would've been like with parents instead of, instead of . . . [She sniffles loudly].

Flitwick: [He hands her a handkerchief and waits for her to blow her nose]. Instead of what, child?

Sabrina: [Looking up at the ceiling]. Instead of being a leftover, only a reminder of what should have been to everyone else around me. If they hadn't been raising a baby, they could have run. If only I could have been born later, they'd still be alive. Stupid stuff, I know.

Flitwick: But important to you, isn't it?

Sabrina: [She twists her lips bitterly]. More along the lines of things we'll never know. [She shrugs and then wipes shaking fingers down her trousers]. I think I'm done talking for today.

Flitwick: As you wish. [He says softly].

End notes: 'Not the most linear of conversations, but perhaps one of the more revealing. I wonder what we will discuss next week? Will she pretend this conversation never occurred? Or will we find a way to work through it?'

. . .

Date: 30 October, 1991
House: Ravenclaw
Student Name: Michael Corner

Flitwick: How has this week progressed? Any more trouble with Ms. Brocklehurst?

Michael: No. Whatever you said to her must have really worked.

Side note: 'I merely reiterated the importance of keeping up with one's studies . . .'

Flitwick: Good. [He smiles]. Are you looking forwards to the upcoming Quidditch season?

Michael: Sure. I'm not particularly obsessed about it or anything, but I enjoy a good match. I've heard that the games here can be particularly brutal at times.

Flitwick: That they can be. Do you follow Quidditch outside of Hogwarts as well?

Michael: My family is rather partial to the Falmouth Falcons. [He says with a cheeky grin]. Although, my dad secretly follows the Holyhead Harpies. I think he likes the idea of watching a bunch of girls beating up on so-called tough Quidditch guys.

Flitwick: [Is startled into laughter]. And is your mother a strong woman as well?

Michael: [He visibly thinks for a moment]. You know, now that you mention it, she is. My dad is a big guy and all, but when she flicks her wand just so, he knows it's time to give up on whatever they're arguing about.

Flitwick: Is your mother also a fan of Quidditch?

Michael: Big time! She's already bought our tickets for the Quidditch World Cup three years from now, and she's already started making predictions about who's going to be in it.

Flitwick: Oh? Any chances for Britain?

Michael: Not a one! [He laughs].

Flitwick: I enjoy watching the Americans, but I do hope that they don't make yet another appearance this next World Cup. They are a touch too showy for my tastes.

Michael: Mum likes them to a point, but not enough to buy tickets whenever it's hosted there. Besides, she said that flooing internationally with anyone under 13 isn't really worth it.

Flitwick: Well, it sounds as though you are in luck for next time then. [He smiles].

Michael: Hope so.

End notes: 'I think that I would enjoy meeting his parents one of these days—particularly his mother.'

. . .

Date: 31 October, 1991
House: Gryffindor
Student Name: Ronald Weasley

McGonagall: Are you looking forward to the feast tonight?

Ron: Oh wow, am I. If even half the things that Fred and George have told me about this feast are true, then I'm going to be happy. I just want to eat until I explode and then sleep until I wake up. Too bad Halloween couldn't have been on a Friday this year.

McGonagall: [Raising a critical eyebrow]. Yes . . . too bad for you, Mr. Weasley. I do hope that you will take care not to each too much at the feast. I'm sure you would not enjoy spending your night in the infirmary.

Ron: Aw, don't worry so much about my stomach. [He pats it proudly]. I can take it.

McGonagall: [She looks away and quickly rolls her eyes]. I understand that your class is learning the Levitation charm in Professor Flitwick's class this week. How is that going for you?

Ron: [He groans softly]. Fred and George made fun of my pronunciation all week, and I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I've even started dreaming about it.

McGonagall: [Smiling slightly]. Then how did Professor Flitwick's class go today?

Ron: [He blushes suddenly].

McGonagall: [Her smile broadens]. Please elaborate, Mr. Weasley.

Ron: Well . . . turns out my brothers knew what they were talking about, 'cause I was the first one to get it right. [He finally admits in a mumble].

McGonagall: Oh, well done Mr. Weasley. [She nods in his direction].

Ron: It was a bit embarrassing, really. Professor Flitwick made me help the other students around me—well, except for Thomas and Finnigan, of course.

McGonagall: Ah, of course. Did any of your housemates benefit from your tutelage?

Ron: [A look of befuddlement comes across his face]. Pardon?

McGonagall: [She sighs softly]. Did you help any of your housemates better learn the charm?

Ron: Oh. Um, yes. A bit, I think. Even Neville got it a bit towards the end. I think if he could have just said it a bit stronger, you know, maybe more confidently, it would have been fine.

McGonagall: [She looks vaguely impressed]. I'm glad to hear that you were able to help Mr. Longbottom so much, Mr. Weasley.

Ron: [He turns pink again]. Aw well . . . [He scratches the back of his neck]. It wasn't much.

McGonagall: On the contrary Mr. Weasley. There are many of those in your year who would not be willing to do the same. Therefore, I must thank you. And I think 5 points to Gryffindor for aiding a housemate ought to show you that I'm serious.

Ron: [His faint blush blossoms into a deep red burn across both cheeks, ears and down onto the back of his neck]. Well—thanks. [He grins again].

End notes: 'I am encouraged by this session.'

. . .

Date: 31 October, 1991
House: Gryffindor
Student Name: Neville Longbottom

McGonagall: Are you looking forward to the feast tonight?

Neville: Sure.

McGonagall: It is a very impressive sight. Professors Flitwick and Dumbledore put it together every year with a few of the best Charms students from the upper years helping out.

Neville: Do . . . Are the students, are they allowed to give their ideas on what sorts of things are displayed? [His voice is soft and hesitant].

McGonagall: [She smiles gently]. They are, to a degree. They invited to the planning sessions and are allowed to make suggestions about any of the features that they have ideas about.

Neville: That's pretty cool.

McGonagall: It is indeed, Mr. Longbottom.

Neville: Do you know who got to help this year?

McGonagall: Actually . . . [She abruptly stands up and rifles through a few things on her desk before suddenly pulling out a spare piece of parchment from one pile]. Yes, here it is. [She sits back down]. The students that helped this year are Dominga Ruthven, Mary Tower and Harriette Ehrenberg.

Neville: No boys?

McGonagall: Not this year. [She sends the parchment back to her desk with a flick of her wand].

Neville: Dominga . . . isn't she in Gryffindor?

McGonagall: Yes. And Ms. Tower is a Slytherin and Ms. Ehrenberg is Ravenclaw. I'm sure that if you were to ask any of them about the magical aspects of tonight's feast, they would be able to tell you more about what they did.

Neville: I might. [He gives a thoughtful nod].

End notes: 'Thus far the only academic interest Mr. Longbottom has shown in anything has been Herbology. I hope that this conversation helps to spark a new interest for him.'

. . .

Date: 31 October, 1991
House: Gryffindor
Student Name: Parvati Patil

Parvati: Thank you for letting me come to the feast tonight.

McGonagall: Well, thank you for informing me of Ms. Turpin's less than honest methods.

Parvati: She's just . . . grr! Her first pair of dragon gloves were nicer than mine. And now she's going to get a new pair. I know—[she holds up a hand to stop McGonagall from interrupting]—she has to pay for it herself, but her pocket money is at least twice what mine and Padma's are.

McGonagall: Her parents would do well to punish her in other ways than just making her purchase a new pair of gloves. She could have seriously injured herself with her foolish behaviour.

Parvati: I heard that Professor Flitwick is pretty angry with her at least!

McGonagall: Indeed? [She raises an eyebrow].

Parvati: Yeah, apparently he's going to go meet with her parents and bring along Madame Pomfrey to talk about what could happen when potions experiments go wrong!

Side note: 'This has all the markings of a rumour gone out of control.'

McGonagall: Even though it wasn't actually a potions experiment?

Parvati: Well, that's just the rumour going around the school. [She shrugs]. I dunno, it could be worse than that!

End notes: 'If only it could be . . .'

. . .

31 October, 1991 - Evening

Harry didn't get lost very often, especially since Cadillac the house elf had been added to help Vince in his unending task of keeping the smaller boy on track. As a result, the few times that he still managed to get lost despite their better efforts were of particular interest. The most notable of these was Halloween evening, directly after Quirrell announced that there was a troll loose in the dungeons.

Harry smelled something as their prefects were leading them away from the Great Hall. It was a odour unlike anything he had ever smelled before. He was naturally sensitive to sensory stimuli, but that wasn't the only reason his senses were heightened. His many years spent in a locked and dark cupboard had forced him to utilize his sense of hearing, touch and smell to a greater extent than any of his peers.

Thus, at the introduction to a smell never before experienced, he was naturally intrigued and simultaneously frustrated that the direction that the Slytherin crowd of students was heading in was away from the strange odour.

It wasn't hard to slip away from the crowd. In all of the excitement surrounding a loose troll, no one looked at him as he quickly dropped to the back of the group. In less than three minutes he was alone and trotting down an unknown corridor. Intent on finding the mystery scent, he completely ignored the familiar smell that was slinking at a farther distance behind him.

Several corridors later, he suddenly stopped and stared at the row of classrooms across from him. He slowed his pace and continued down the hallway, sniffing the air constantly as he went. However, it wasn't until he was standing outside a bathroom that he felt he had finally come upon the source of the unusual smell.

Fearlessly, he pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Standing in front of him was a huge grey . . . thing. His mind blanked as he tried to determine a descriptor that would do for the creature in front of him. It was holding a bat—a large bat, but not the sort of bat that his favourite professor reminded him of. He smiled at the silly thought and took a few steps farther inside.

The . . . thing grunted at him and he did what came naturally. He waved at it.

The grey creature blinked in befuddlement back down at him. Harry remembered talking with the tree and he reached out his senses like he had done then.

"You's big," he said and thought, nodding cheerfully.

The grey creature looked down at itself and then back at him. It grunted something that sounded like agreement in his head.

"You lost?" Harry asked, once more saying it aloud and in his mind.

Another grunt of mild agreement was his response.

"Harry help!" He said encouragingly, thinking helpful thoughts at the large greyish mass in front of him. He reached out a small hand and moved close enough to touch the thing's monstrous hand.

The grey creature in front of him watched him with a puzzled expression, not even twitching when Harry wrapped a small fist around a large pinkie and tried to pull him forwards.

"This ways," Harry nodded again, grinning happily when the . . . thing started to follow behind him.

. . .

Hermione watched in amazement as Harry exited the girl's loo with a docile troll lumbering slowly behind him. The troll almost didn't make it through the doorway, but then at the last second, magic flickered through the air and the entrance enlarged itself to fit around the thing's massive body.

She wrinkled a nose as the smell that pervaded the space around the troll's unwashed flesh rolled over her. Harry led the troll down the hallway, pausing only a moment to wave at her from where she had hidden herself in a dark passageway. She blinked in surprise, but then nearly dropped her jaw as the troll waved its other hand at her too.

She'd have to find out how the hell Harry was doing this, and she'd have to do it soon. It seemed like a kind of mind control, and while she was pretty sure that Harry would never try to hurt anyone—particularly Hermes—she still didn't fancy the idea of being at anyone's mercy.

. . .

Date: 3 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: 30 October, 1991.

Ongoing impressions: 'One might even say he has his priorities misaligned. He has no care for anything academically related, but he does care a great deal about Harry Potter and to a point, Draco Malfoy. I admire his patience with both parties, but I do wish he could find something in himself to feel proud of as well.'

Snape: I did not have a chance to talk with you very much after Harry sent the troll on its way, so I thought I might try and remedy that now. How long was it before you realised he was gone?

Vince: [He sighs]. I've been trying to figure that out too. I feel like I've goofed up two weeks in a row, and I'm really sorry.

Side note: 'He looks like he hasn't gotten much sleep this week.'

Snape: As I have said before, Harry is his own person and as much as we would like to control his actions, sometimes we cannot.

Vince: At least he has pretty good luck.

Snape: That we can both agree on. [The corner of his mouth creeps upwards into a small smile].

Vince: Have you ever heard of a troll that didn't eat a human? I mean, how the hell—er, heck did Harry manage to lead a troll out of the castle without getting hurt anyway?

Snape: I haven't the foggiest. I am hoping that my session with him will help to alleviate some of the confusion.

Vince: He hasn't said much to me about it either. [He frowns]. Didn't the headmaster talk with him afterwards? Did he learn anything?

Snape: [Sighing]. Only that Harry is allergic to lemon drops.

Vince: [He snorts in amusement]. What happened?

Snape: The entire right side of his body swelled up and Professor Dumbledore had to fire call Madame Pomfrey for assistance.

Vince: [He dramatically rolls his eyes]. Only Harry would survive a troll and then almost get done in by a lemon drop.

Snape: Yes, that does sound rather correct.

Vince: Wow.

End notes: 'Wow indeed, Mr. Crabbe. At present, I know no more than you, but I hope that I can do something about that shortly.'

. . .

Date: 3 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: 29 October, 1991. She has reverted back to burning them.

Ongoing impressions: 'Someone close to her betrayed her trust, and none of my suspicions as to how that could have happened mean anything good for her.'

Snape: Can you explain why you returned to the Slytherin common room so much later than everyone else Halloween night?

Hermione: [Smiling slightly]. I got separated from the group.

Snape: Indeed. Did you happen to see Mr. Potter while you were separated?

Hermione: [She pauses, levelling a critical glare on Snape]. Actually, I did see him.

Side note: 'Progress?'

Snape: Was he the reason that you were . . . separated?

Hermione: [She chews on her lip for a moment before suddenly relaxing]. No one saw him leave.

Snape: It was a bit of a madhouse, or so my upper year prefects told me.

Hermione: He didn't just get lost. He left. On purpose.

Snape: Do you have any theories as to why he would have done such a thing?

Hermione: I think he smelled it—the troll. I saw him sniffing the air.

Snape: Could you smell anything from your vantage point?

Hermione: Not until we got farther on.

Snape: Did you consider stopping him?

Hermione: Considered it. [She says, chewing on her lip again].

Snape: But? [He raises an eyebrow in questioning].

Hermione: [She shrugs]. I wasn't sure that was where he was going.

Snape: But you had a theory.

Hermione: I wanted to see what he'd do. I didn't think he'd walk right up to the thing and say hi!

Snape: If he'd been in danger, would you have intervened?

Hermione: [She chews on her lip and crosses her arms over her chest].

Snape: [He leans forwards]. Granger?

Side note: 'I'd prefer not to end the conversation with a poorly timed reference to her femininity.'

Hermione: I would have. [She levels brown eyes on his own dark ones]. I take care of my family.

Snape: Even if they do not do the same for you? [He asks in a low voice].

Hermione: [Stiffening].

Snape: Do you want me to call you Hermes as Harry does? [He asks in a near whisper].

Hermione: [Her eyes widen].

Snape: I would, if you'd like me to. At least here in our sessions together. Would you like me to do that?

Hermione: [She doesn't answer].

Snape: Think on it, child.

End notes: 'She set nothing on fire this time at least. And she answered a few questions.'

. . .

Date: 3 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: 2 November, 1991

Ongoing impression: 'One of the first to show fear at the mention of the troll. One of the first to arrive at the common room. One of the first to receive detention for trampling over the backs of other students in his haste to escape.'

Snape: [He pinches the bridge of his nose]. Cunning. Ambition. Determination. Cowardice is not a trait of Slytherin, although you seem to believe otherwise.

Draco: [Blustering]. Just because I don't run headlong into danger, it doesn't mean that I'm a coward! You want someone like that, maybe you should talk to McGonagall. [He sneers].

Snape: [He drops his hand to his lap and glares back at Draco]. You put three of your own housemates in the infirmary when you decided that your survival was more important than theirs.

Draco: Yeah! Well you didn't mention self-preservation in that list either! And that's definitely one of the traits!

Snape: Oh, self-preservation is most certainly one of the characteristics of Slytherin. Of course, you didn't think of how your housemates would react later when they learned that you were the one to stomp on their backs. You didn't think of how you would preserve your image once they learned of your cowardly actions.

And now, Mr. Malfoy, I feel I should warn you that I will not protect you from their revenge, beyond ensuring that you are not permanently harmed from their actions against your person.

Draco: [He scowls darkly]. Then, feel free to ignore my reactions as well, sir. [He hisses coldly].

Snape: [He suddenly smiles].

Draco: [He squirms in discomfort at the frightening expression on Snape's face].

Snape: Enjoy your week, Draco. [He says, still smiling coldly].

End notes: 'I wonder what he would do if I were to charm all of his clothes in Gryffindor colours this week? Perhaps I will borrow those twins of yours, Minerva.'

. . .

Date: 3 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: 'Strangely powerful and bizarrely innocent, despite all that has occurred in his lifetime. Hadwyn has just begun his research into how his mind works, and I can only hope that his actions help Harry, rather than hinder him further.'

Harry: [Running into Snape's quarters, he suddenly falters as he gets within arm's reach of Snape and ends up bouncing on the sofa beside his professor, instead of directly on his lap]. 'Fessor Snape? [His question is asked in a hesitant voice].

Snape: Harry? What's wrong?

Side note: 'I would hope that he doesn't think I'm angry at him over the troll incident—although I was initially, until it was established that he had been safe the entire time.'

Harry: [Setting a hand down on Snape's knee]. You's hurt. [His lower lip trembles].

Side note: 'How can he tell?'

Snape: It is nothing to worry about, Harry. I assure you, I am being well taken care of.

Harry: But—yours leg. [He points at Snape's leg]. It hurts. And, ands it feels like fire. Ands—[he reaches up and touches Snape's brow]—you're hurtings. You gots a fever—a little one, but it's still hot!

Snape: You needn't worry about me, Harry. It is healing. There is nothing you can do to help.

Side note: 'I feel as though I may have just made a grave mistake with that statement.'

Harry: [He shakes his head in the negative]. I helps my 'fessor! [He stands up and then drops down to the floor, wrapping his body around one of Snape's legs]. I makes better!

Snape: Harry. [He says calmly]. Get off the floor please, child.

Harry: I help! [He glares back up at Snape and starts squeezing his arms tighter].

Snape: Harry, what—stop that, Harry!

[There is a ripple of magical energy that suddenly expands out from Harry's body].

'The quill recording this session is experiencing magical difficulties. It will resume as soon as possible. Please stand by.'