A month later . . .

The end of his disastrous History of Magic O.W.L saw Harry frantically banging on the door to Professor Snape’s office.

“Hurry up, hurry up!” he chanted under his breath.

When the door started to swing open, he barged through without waiting to see if anyone was coming the other way, and he nearly bowled Professor Snape over.

“Potter! Wha—” was as far as Snape got before Harry interrupted him.

“Professor, I think Volde— ah, You-Know-Who,” he amended when he saw Snape wince, “has Sirius! He’s torturing him, please, we’ve got to go and rescue him!”

“Potter! Be quiet, and breathe,” Snape said, pushing him into a nearby chair. “Now, what’s this about the mutt?”

Fidgeting with anxiety, Harry explained what he’d seen during his exam. When he described the location he’d seen, Snape raised an eyebrow.

“Really, Potter,” he sighed, “did those Occlumency lessons teach you nothing? The Dark Lord is trying to draw you to the Ministry, and you want to rush in like a foolish Gryffindor without checking for traps. Not everything is as you see it, you stupid boy!”

“HE’S GOT SIRIUS!” Harry bellowed, jumping to his feet. “He’s hurting Sirius! We have to go and help him!”

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache he could feel starting to form.

“Potter!” he barked – again. He was starting to feel like a parrot. “If you would kindly sit down and be quiet, then I will check if the mutt is where he’s supposed to be.”

Grudgingly, the boy sank down again, biting his lip. Sneering, Severus moved towards his desk and removed a small wooden box with a metallic lid. Tapping it three times with his wand, he waited to feel the hum of the rising magic before demanding, “Sirius Black!”

The metallic lid shimmered, then stretched upwards into an oval shape. Severus touched the cloudy surface, and there was an echoing chime as though he’d rung a bell.

Severus could see Potter fidgeting again out of the corner of his eye as they waited for the surface to clear. Stupid mutt was probably out chasing sticks, he thought.

Eventually, though, the surface cleared to show a scowling Sirius.

“What do you want, Sn— Snape?” he groused. “That filthy Kreacher injured Buckbeak and I need to get back to him.”

“So you are at Headquarters, then,” said Severus, glancing at Potter who had slumped over in relief. “Not being tortured?”

“Only by your face,” Sirius muttered, then he yelped as the punishment spell he was under kicked him.

“There, Potter, you see? No point in haring off, is there?” With a sneer of his own at Black, Severus wiped the surface clear again, and it sank back onto the wooden box.

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry said, gratefully. He got to his feet and made his way to the door. “Goodness knows what might’ve happened if I hadn’t been able to come to you.” He closed the door carefully behind him.

Severus thought how much had changed over the past couple of months. Now Potter actually listened to him, the mutt was . . . disciplined every time he tried to say something less than civil to Severus, and he could rarely turn around these days without Albus, Minerva, Poppy or even Lupin for Merlin’s sake wanting to chat with him and have tea.

Severus smiled to himself as he made his way out of his office to check on his Slytherins who were preparing for their N.E.W.Ts the following week.

No, he definitely didn’t need to wear a mask any more.