~~~~SS~~~~

Severus added in the powdered unicorn horn at the precise moment the first bubbles in teal liquid began to rise indicating its intention to boil. This would be his third attempt at the revision of this particular potion, keeping him occupied in the cellar of his home on Spinner's End - where he recently moved into after the death of his father - for the last two days; he hadn't seen daylight in that long. This time he'd get it, if for no other reason than he'd run out of ideas to try if it blew up in his face again. He stretched out his arms after giving the potion five anti-clockwise turns and waited for the color to change to a bright emerald green - the same shade as Lily's eyes, though a potion this vile should never be compared to someone like her - when he could add the Belladonna. At that point, the concoction would either accept the deadly ingredient and he would finally have a successful rendition to present to the Dark Lord at his next summons, or it wouldn't and… well, he'd seen plenty of that result over the last two days.

Unfortunately, instead of adding the ground pure Belladonna as planned, he dropped it all over the floor when his left forearm started to fiercely burn. He'd taken the Mark less than a year ago and he still hadn't gotten used to the feeling of his master's call; nor did he anticipate a day when he would. In his distracted state, not to mention the final ingredient nos scattered across the cement floor, Severus missed the chance to complete the potion, evident when the color rapidly changed from a smooth green to a black sludge. It was better than the explosions from the last four attempts, but still meant he'd have to start over. Giving his wand a wave over his workbench, the Death Eater vanished the contents to the washing sink, then opened the bottom drawer where he pulled out the personalized mask he wore to each summons, along with his robes. The last second before disapparating, at the risk of being punished for being late, Severus grabbed a phial of Invigorating Draft just in case it ended up being a long night. Satisfied with his preparation and mask firmly affixed to his face, he touched the moving, burning mark on the inside of his forearm and instantly disapparated to the Dark Lord's side.

They never knew where the Dark Lord would call them, and Severus couldn't have been more surprised when his black boots landed on a hard, rocky surface in some kind of cavern. The dark night outside was pitched black, telling him they couldn't be too far from home, and he smelled the smallest touch of salt and algae in the air. Up ahead, through a narrow pathway, he saw the flickering of a fire lighting his way and heard the sounds of heckling and taunting hinting at the purpose of their summons: a muggle must had been caught and they'd be responsible for 'seeing to his or her punishment' as entertainment for their Lord. Severus hated muggles - particularly those like his father and Lily's awful excuse for a sister - but he discovered early on he didn't hate them enough to take the same sadistic pleasure the others did in torturing them. Unfortunately, he learned the hard way to play his part well, less he meet a similar fate.

Approaching the summons location, Severus took a quick survey of the situation. In the center of the room a large fire burned high, creating enough light to see around the room. Unlike their normal torturing summons, it appeared as if they were inside a castle of some sort rather out in the elements in the middle of who knew where. The Dark Lord stood on the far side of the fire on a dais built up so he could see over the fire and into each corner of the space, keeping a close watch over the situation in front of him. A total of four masked Death Eaters were in a half circle on the left side of the fire with a woman - their victim for the night - laid bound at their feet. Though each Death Eater arrived masked, Severus quickly realized he benefited from knowing who stood beside him at these events and started paying closer attention to the voices and references to the people beneath them. That night, Severus only recognized one person and of course it had to be Lucius Malfoy. In addition to the Dark Lord and his marked followers, there were two other wizards Severus hadn't seen before standing on the other side of fire. For a split second, Severus thought perhaps this summons would be an initiation, however it quickly became apparent the Dark Lord didn't view these two visitors with as much regard as his marked Death Eaters.

"Let us begin," the Dark Lord called in a voice Severus knew meant trouble, and then immediately felt the indescribable pain of the Cruciatus Curse; his punishment for being the last to arrive.

In the Hogwarts hospital wing, Severus woke up gasping for breath, sure that this time that horrible curse had done him in. Panic filled every cell in his body when he found he couldn't take in any of the oxygen his brain needed to function; how could he find a way out from the Dark Lord's grasp if he didn't have the oxygen for his brain to think. In the panic, he couldn't recognize that the noises surrounding him made no sense for being at a Death Eater meeting. Where hexes and curses to their victim should have been were a cacophony of people calling his name - Severus! Severus, can you hear me? Finally with a loud Anapneo yelled out from somewhere to his left, Severus could breathe once again.

Opening his eyes the former Death Eater found himself not in a rocky locale being subjected to the Cruciatus Curse, but instead in the Hogwarts hospital wing surrounded by Madam Pomfrey, Minerva, and Harry. The sun flowing in from the windows above his head strained his eyes, and when he tried to sit up his whole upper body ached preventing him from moving much further than his elbows.

What had happened? The last thing Severus remembered had been a Death Eater summons… but no, it had only been a nightmare of one of those awful memories he'd forever be haunted by. He had been fighting with Harry, hadn't he? Over dinner because of…. The flood in the Slytherin Common Room! The events of the previous night came back to him as quickly as those last flooded waters had hit him. Had he been successful in rescuing his students? Suddenly getting up and to the Dungeons felt more important than ever.

"Severus!" Poppy's commanding voice brought his brain out of the fog and into the room around him. "You're going to be alright, just try to stay calm."

"I need…" he struggled to think about what he needed to do, "the Common Room."

"Everyone is out," Minerva was the voice of reason, "you took care of those in the Common Room, then Albus, Kingsley, and I were able to siphon the water out and get to the dormitories in the early hours of this morning. Everyone has been accounted for."

He wanted to ask if "accounted for" meant they were all alive, but he dared not ask; his mind and body couldn't handle that news at the moment, and he suspected the two witches were well aware of this fact.

"Lay back down and let me run a diagnostic scan," Poppy took control, as she always did.

Not having the energy argue, Severus leaned back against his stacked pillows and closed his eyes to give himself the impression of having privacy. Each pass of the diagnostic charm and Poppy's lack of comments made him feel better about his situation.

"You're healing up just fine," Poppy announced. "Took a nasty hit to the head I'm afraid, but there's not much we can do to fix a concussion outside of a headache drought," she placed a phial on the table beside him, which he instantly recognized as the potion in question, along with three others used for general healing.

He learned he'd been unconscious most of the day, and it was now Thursday afternoon, just past lunchtime, and Albus had, for good reason, canceled classes for the entire day. Poppy clinically went through his list of injuries, not unlike she used to do for him after his summons - bringing him unwillingly back to his dream - followed by Minerva getting him up to date about the status of his students. Ten of them ended up in the Black Lake, having been pulled out by the current, and thankfully saved by the creatures living in the water. All ten needed to be sent for more specialized care at St Mungo's, but as of that morning's update, Poppy said there would be no fatalities expected. None of the students trapped in the dorms received any physical injuries, however based on Poppy's assessment, they'd been shaken up quite a bit once they discovered they were trapped in the room. Of all the other injuries, currently eighteen patients, himself included, were remaining in the hospital wing under medical care and would be there for at least another night; most with head injuries requiring a two night stay per school guidelines. The rest had been cleared to leave earlier that morning.

The Slytherin Dungeons were completely off-limits until further notice while a thorough investigation was underway, where Albus, Kingsley, Tonks and another half a dozen aurors were currently. Therefore his students were left to stay temporarily in the Great Hall, converted nightly into more comfortable accommodations by adding camp beds and sofas. The arrangement provided them a step up from the sleeping bags during the Sirius Black incident and would do for now. Finally, because Harry had opened the door to help - something he'd address with the young wizard alone - his quarters needed to be repaired as well. For the time being, he'd be in the hospital wing, and then Albus would set him up in one of the guest quarters. As for the rest of the Dungeons, the doors to the classrooms and offices remained closed and therefore their charms intact, making any water damage both manageable and easily fixable.

During the entire exchange with both witches, Severus kept a close eye on Harry, who sat practically sulking in a chair near the back corner of his partitioned area staring between his own hands and over at Severus. He didn't appear too injured - his face scraped up and bruised, but both appeared to be healing well and he'd winced when he turned, leaving the professor to believe his side likely had a bad contusion - though the professor didn't like what Minerva had told him about the young Gryffindor's assistance in rescuing his freed classmates. Surely had the Transfiguration professor wanted to, she could have called an adult for help. Nevertheless, it demonstrated exactly how Harry had managed to get into the situations he'd been in all of these years. Harry's presence, despite his lack of speaking, said more than any words could. Yet again, they'd make it through the rocky terrain - Severus shook his head from the image of his nightmare - and be able to move on.

"Harry," Minerva turned and addressed the child on the forefront of his mind, "Would you please go to Madam Pomfrey's floo and order some lunch for yourself and Severus? I should think soup and sandwiches would be an acceptable meal."

"I'll help you, deary," Poppy announced, holding her hand out to Harry to help escort him from the room.

Without a sound, the young wizard sullenly nodded his head and took off to the Matron's office. As expected, given her dismissal of her Lion, Minerva waved her wand to cast a privacy spell around them.

"What's going on, Minerva?"

The colleague he now thought of as his closest friend took a seat in the chair Harry had vacated, pulling it closer to his bedside.

"Tonk and Moody were here this morning questioning the students about what happened prior to the windows breaking," she chose her words carefully and Severus internally questioned why. It made complete sense that the aurors would investigate, and for once he didn't mind their presence. At least, he rationalized, Williamson hadn't been assigned the task.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Severus responded, not hiding his confusion. "I'm certain they'll be wanting my account of the events, though I do have the benefit of having Kingsley with me, who I'm certain gave a detailed review of our actions already."

"He has provided his statement," she confirmed, her wrinkled hands shuffled in her lap

He narrowed his eyes back at her, "Then what is the issue?"

"It didn't strike me as odd when you said it before going into the Common Room," she anxiously started, "but it sounded very perculure when your students explained how you demanded - their words - they be in the Common Room two hours prior to curfew."

"They were to use those hours for the purpose of studying," he shook his head, hoping his head injury had been preventing him from understanding. "I still don't see how that's problematic."

Minerva's face grimaced, a sign of bad news to come, "The question had been raised if you'd required that of your students every year, and if not, then why this year?"

Severus had no doubt in his mind the question had come from Moody. The ex-auror shouldn't have been involved to begin with and he could only assume he'd been brought in as a favor for Dumbledore; likely since the headmaster still thought Death Eaters were targeting them in some way, and having two Marked wizards in his castle didn't help things in the slightest. Still, the accusation under other circumstances would have been logical, unfortunately he didn't quite see it that way in the current light.

Gritting his teeth, Severus spat out, "Given the landscape of my house, I did it as a means of keeping track of my students." A deafening silence enveloped their small corner of the hospital wing and Severus could admit his anger had been misplaced. "Thank you for the insight. I'll keep this in mind during my interrogation."

"Severus-"

"I understand, Minerva, " he cut her off, not wanting her to think he didn't know what she was doing for him. "And you have my deepest gratitude for looking out for me, as well as your assistance last night. We all need to find a way to move forward now."

Against his will, he let out a large yawn. Having only been awake for no more than thirty minutes, he didn't see how he could be tired, nevertheless the exhaustion hit him like the Knight Bus.

"I'll go check on your lunch," the witch said, patting his leg through his blankets, the only person outside of Harry he would ever allow to do so without receiving a tongue lashing.

Left alone with his thoughts, the professor started to consider what Minerva had alluded towards. Inevitably, he had become a suspect for attempting to murder his students, but with Kingsley by his side from at least a quarter hour before the windows broke, truthfully they had very little to hold against him. His requiring of the students to be in the Common Room was circumstantial, at best, and wouldn't be nearly enough to do any damage to him. If that didn't do anything, there was the lack of motive: why would he try to kill his entire house of students? And then run in to go rescue them?

Scratch that, he sullenly thought, Moody could likely find a motive that would stick.

As if knowing he needed something to help clear his mind from the negativity surrounding him, a piece of parchment popped up in his lap.

Hey Sev - it's Mae! I hope it's alright that I call you Sev, it's such a natural nickname for an otherwise staunchy given name like Severus.

Anyway, I know you work this Saturday and I'm on another double at the clinic, so I thought maybe we could catch a movie at the cinema out here on Sunday afternoon? I know you're not into the whole movie scene, but I've been dying to see Titanic and it'd be awesome to go with you.

I hope things are going well at school. Gimme a ring back when you get a chance!

The light heartedness of her message broke through Severus's sour mood and he found himself smiling at the image of her leaving this message for him. Assuming the DMLE cleared up the investigation by then and his students were safe, he would go with her on Sunday; he wanted to go with her to the cinema. The first and the last time he went had been with Lily and her parents; the first during the summer holiday before their first year, and the last over the Christmas holiday of their fifth. The last time though, felt too much like a date to him and he immediately knew had their friendship not ended a few months later, he'd never go again with her. As much as he loved Lily, she never had those same feelings for him and that day had been too painful for him to repeat. Sitting there looking at the missive, he couldn't understand what Mae saw in him, let alone enough to want to go out with him for a third time.

"Everything alright?"

Harry's voice startled him, and Severus looked up to see the young wizard coming around the curtain with two trays levitating in front of him, favoring his right side as he walked.

"It's nothing," the professor replied, placing the parchment upside down on the bedside table. "Your magic is getting stronger."

"Yeah," Harry answered, proudly, "I don't use it too much because of… y'know, the magical core pain, but it's good to have the option if I need it."

The Gryffindor placed one of the trays - a steaming bowl of split pea soup, half a ham sandwich, and strawberries and apples in sweet yogurt - across Severus's lap and then sat in the chair closest to his bed with his own tray.

"On that note," Severus told him, "I doubt I'll be making it to your evaluation with Alton tonight. You should still go, though. It's important to chart the readings."

Harry nodded, "S'alright, sir. I'll let you know what he says, but things have been going so well I don't expect anything major to come back."

Even after the life he'd lived, Harry was still too young and too naive to be afraid of that statement. For Severus, he feared when things went well; afraid they'd miss the internal bleeding when focusing on the broken wrist. He wouldn't spoil the young wizard's outlook on life with his own negativity, especially when they worked so hard with Dr Snyder to overcome the Gryffindor's anxiety about Maintenance, so he simply nodded his approval.

"About last night," Severus started, taking a small sip of his soup from the large spoon. It felt wonderful on his throat - sore from the water he'd inhaled and had removed from his airway - and he felt each of his cells perk up.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry practically jumped on Severus's pause from his sip as an opportunity to take the upper hand in the conversation. "I shouldn't have said what I did. After everything you've done for me…"

"You should not have left our quarters," Severus lectured, trying not to draw attention to the obvious issue of Harry's emotional state during their previous dinner. " And then continuing to put yourself in danger rather than getting out of the Dungeons? Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been?" Harry winced and held his side, unknowingly confirming to Severus where he'd been - and still was - hurt. But it wouldn't do either of them any good to argue about Harry's need to save the day, so Severus wet his lips and asked, "So what has been plaguing your mind lately?"

Harry fiddled with the hem of Severus's blanket, "I dunno what you're talking about."

An obvious lie.

"We both know that's not true," the professor pushed. "If there wasn't anything bothering you, then you'd be sleeping and you wouldn't have said what you did last night."

"You sound pretty confident on that."

"Because I am."

Harry's defiant expression clearly showed his dislike of Severus's statement, and he wouldn't have been surprised if the Gryffindor didn't answer him on principle alone. The professor had to remind himself that this Harry still wouldn't be used to Severus's ability to read his plentiful emotions straight from his young face; that while the two Harry's were so different, their core was still eerily similar to one another.

"I'm trying to help you, Harry," Severus offered. "I know you can't see it that way."

"What if I don't want your help?" The young wizard challenged for no other reason than to show he could.

Pinching his eyes closed, Severus muttered just above a whisper, "You are going to be the death of me someday, child."

Something about the statement started to unravel Harry's attitude, and with everything Severus anticipated to hear next, he would never have guessed Harry's words would be, "They know you're different and there's been… questions... about us."

"Who has said something?"

"Hermione, for one," Harry grudgingly answered, then quickly clarified with, "not questioning our relationship like that, but she mentioned how she knew you've changed. Doesn't it bother you?"

Severus raised an eyebrow, "Do I come across as the type of person who cares about what a bunch of teenagers think of me?" The Gryffindor paused, as if to argue the point but intelligently decided against it. "Exactly. And frankly, neither are you."

The young wizard sighed in defeat. "So then you're just going to let them question why you're so different?"

He didn't get to answer the question, or even finish his lunch, because the sound of the hospital wing door slamming into the wall from its forceful opening caught his attention.

"What do you think you're doing storming into my infirmary like this?" He heard Madam Pomfrey's strict voice yell to the intruders. "You have no-"

"I've been told Severus Snape is awake," a gruff voice Severus didn't recognize cut her off. "We were supposed to be notified immediately."

The former spy didn't like the tone emanating from the wizard; obviously an auror, and not one familiar with his unique position. Hell must have frozen over, because he found himself wishing it had been Moody who came to interrogate him.

Ignoring Madam Pomfrey's stalling tactics - none of which would work - Severus turned to Harry and calmly said, "We'll talk about this later. You need to go before you get wrapped up in whatever this is about to be."

Harry gave a worried glance behind him to the commotion growing out in the main area. "I've already been questioned by Tonks. It was intense, but not too awful," he said standing from his chair. "I promise I'll be by tonight after my evaluation with Healer Smithe."

Severus nodded, hoping he'd be lucky enough to still be in the castle as of tonight rather than locked up in some hidden hospital wing in Azkaban; not even defeating Voldemort could save him from attempted murder of over a hundred students. Regardless of all their Occlumency lessons, he could plainly see Harry had the same thought running through his mind. Nevertheless, neither would say anything, and instead chose to pretend nothing out of the norm was about to happen. As Harry left, Severus caught sight of the Gryffindor's lunch tray at the foot of his bed - still completely untouched.

"Where are you going?" The gruff voice outside of his partitioned room asked; Severus assumed towards Harry.

"He's fine for now," he heard Moody's familiar voice explain, and the former spy found himself more relieved to have a former Order member present. "We questioned him this morning."

A harsh grumble came from the man walking towards his bed; his lumbering footsteps so loud, Severus could visually picture where the auror was in the room. In preparation for the inevitable interrogation, the professor added his own half eaten lunch to the foot of the bed with Harry's, and straightened himself up to appear more in control of himself.

"Severus Snape?" The auror, a heavy-set man in his mid-fifties with dark brown hair under a Trilby hat, stepped around the curtain with Moody and Poppy right behind. The other wizard didn't wear the typical auror robes, leading Severus to the conclusion he didn't see much field work. Combined with being the one chosen to interrogate him, the man likely ranked somewhere between Kingsley as Head Auror and Pius Thickness as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; the latter of whom was far too political to make any physical appearance in any case. All of those observations told Severus the story of a wizard who either had a bone to pick with a former Death Eater, or who hated being inconvenienced by being brought into the field, most likely a little of both.

"As no one else jumped to your obscenely loud call," Severus unwisely taunted, "then yes, that would be me."

Whether the statement earned him the Auror's respect or simply caught the man off guard, he gave a small, unexpected hmph and shook his head.

"You should know," Poppy spoke up to defend her patient, "Severus sustained a mild concussion last night and as an active patient under my care, I won't have you rustling him up."

"Well, we can always arrest him," the auror told her, without breaking eye contact with Severus, though the professor could tell the malice had greatly dissipated.

"Then you best find a way to do that," she called his bluff. "If any of my monitoring spells show signs of duress, this little meeting is over."

"We won't kill 'im, Poppy, he's not worth the paperwork," Moody told her and cast what Severus naturally assumed was a privacy spell the moment her foot left the area. "I need your wand, Severus."

In pure silence and keeping his eyes trained on the new wizard, Severus reached beneath his pillow, withdrew his wand, and handed it over to the ex-auror. Whether the man wanted to check it or simply have it in his possession during their chat didn't make one difference to him.

"Do I get the pleasure of knowing the name of the person who's going to attempt to get me to falsely confess to events I had nothing to do with?" He aggressively asked. The other wizard may feel comfortable taking his guard down, but Severus absolutely did not.

"Chief Samson," the man introduced himself, "I've been called in to make sure everything's done by the book and ask the tough questions. As I'm sure you can understand, a lot of kids with parents in high up places were attacked last night-"

"I don't see what the status of the students' family has to do with anything," Severus pointed out. It wouldn't change his situation in the long run, except it would go on the record; hopefully in his favor.

"I'll be the one asking the questions today," Samson casually lectured. "And the first one I need to know is why every single student in your house was in the Dungeon last night."

"From what I hear, you already know that answer," responded Severus, flatly, "I doubt you'd be here otherwise."

"So are you refusing to answer?"

"Not at all," Severus acted as if this happened to him all of the time. The last thing he'd show to this man was weakness; he'd stood his ground against Voldemort, an auror he could handle. "At the start of term I required all of my students to be in the Dungeon for a scheduled study hour."

Samson took out a pad of parchment and a self-inking quill, then began to write. "And is this extra study hour something you require every year?"

"No."

"Just this year?"

"Yes."

"And why would you do a thing like that?" Samson keenly watched him, waiting for the smallest sign of a lie or an embellishment of the truth.

He didn't falter, though he questioned how many other - less intensively trained witches or wizards - had over the years, and answered, "To keep a closer watch on my students. If they're in their Common Room, then they can't be getting harassed by any of the others for the abhorrent choices their parents or family members may have made in life."

"And yet only a month into term," the auror accused, "they're attacked within the very same room you told them to seek refuge in."

Releasing a subset of his frustration, Severus said, "I sure hope you have a better case built than just 'I told them to be in the Common Room on certain nights of the week to study' because had this happened after curfew it wouldn't have made a damn difference either way!"

"But it didn't happen after curfew, did it?" The auror leaned over towards Severus, "it happened at a time when very few would know the entire house would be present."

"The requirement I set for my house was not kept a secret, by any means," he shook his head disappointedly, "in addition to the other members of the staff who were aptly notified - for detention purposes - there had been a wave of complaints made throughout the student body. Dare I say there wasn't a single soul who wasn't aware of my new regulation."

The other auror paused. He had to have known, or at least logically extrapolated it, and yet the look in his eyes told a different story.

"Let's talk about detentions," Samson abruptly changed the subject. "I have a report here that Mr Harry Potter should have been serving one last night. And yet you weren't in your classroom office at the time of the flooding. Why did you move the detention to your personal quarters in the dungeons?"

"Then I have to ask, what would have happened had I not been there?" The former spy countered. "But to answer your question, Mr Potter had been having a difficult week, and I wanted to have a chance to personally check in with him. As I'm sure you are already aware, I serve as his medical proxy for his muggle illness and subsequent treatments therefore making it imperative I know when things aren't well."

Severus stretched his neck from side to side, only now noticing Moody running through the spells on his wand. Unless he were in the Common Room at the time the enchantments were broken - the feat in itself, he couldn't even start to figure out how it had been done - he didn't understand what they expected to find.

The interrogation continued for another two hours. Poppy checked in periodically and though Severus told her he was fine, he also got the impression that if he needed to, he could have gotten her assistance in delaying this rendezvous and she would have been more than happy to help. Doing so, however, would only aid in making him appear more guilty, and as such he allowed the questioning to continue. Once they'd gone over every single step he took leading up to the breaking windows - sure to be corroborated by Harry and Kingsley - they moved onto his actions inside the Common Room; apparently not anywhere near enough to alleviate any of the guilt from the other circumstantial evidence.

The chief auror questioned his choice in having Hala swim to the students and he wondered if any of the other students had been nervous to see their fellow classmate, particularly the eleven year old they teased on a regular basis, coming to their aid. Severus explained, as best he could, that the decision had been made by weighing the challenges he faced in the room and his need to be the one anchoring the rope to pull the students in. Was it a risk? Absolutely. But one worth taking and it worked out for them all in the end. Based on the phrasing of the questions, he could tell Samson's reasoning was to check on the idea of Severus using Hala in hopes of her failing to successfully swim across the currents. During the entire time this line of questioning continued, Moody had stopped messing with Severus's wand and paid closer attention - no matter how distracted the ex-auror looked, Severus had no doubt he'd been paying attention - to his answers.

"It's clear," Moody finally said, tossing the ebony wand over to the chief. "If he did something, it had to be a while ago, and I doubt the spell would have lasted as long as it did."

So they did find something, after all.

Samson examined the wand, running his own over it a couple of times.

"Here you are, Mr Snape," the other wizard handed him his wand without so much as a second glance. He then closed the notebook of parchment. "I think I have everything we need today. Unfortunately our investigation can take upwards of another week or so, and until then no one will be allowed in or out of the premises. Professor Dumbledore will be in touch with the families for provisions to be sent during their displacement."

"And the repairs?" Severus asked, imagining the shambles they'd be left to deal with.

"Once we collect the evidence from the Dungeon itself," Samson curtly explained, "you'll have access to come into specific areas at a time to start drying, cleaning, and repairing. That timeline will be up to the headmaster."

Between the faculty on staff, they'd have no issues getting it done relatively quickly, so long as the DMLE could get their own piece done efficiently. Not about to dignify that with a response, Severus let his silence speak for him.

Understanding their time had ended, Samson stood up to leave - ironically, Moody made no such motion - but paused right before rounding the partition.

"It would behoove you to stay available," the chief not so cryptically told him, "just in case we find anything of interest."

Neither of the wizards who stayed behind so much as moved at the suggestion. By this point in the day, Severus had been far too tired - physically and mentally - to deal with whatever Samson wanted to engage in. Besides, perhaps he was being over confident, but he had no doubt in his normal capacity he could run circles around the auror.

"You've gotten yourself into a bit of a mess, now haven't you," Moody declared, after what Severus could only assume had been a reasonable timeframe for Samson to leave.

"Nothing I can't handle," he assured the other wizard. As much as he hated to show any kind of weakness, Severus closed his eyes as a headache started to form. "What's the deal with him?"

"Samson?" Moody rhetorically asked. "You know he's just doing his job, but between us… he messed up pretty bad early on after taking the chief position, and managed to get onto the bad side of Madam Bones. Since then he's spent most of his time pushing papers and taking fire calls. Thickness, being as soft as he is, finally caved after the tenth call, in a matter of hours, into the DMLE over this and figured he needed more than just a round of regular aurors."

"So he has a grudge and something to prove," he said as a statement rather than a question, and one he didn't need an answer to. "Are you going to tell me what they found in the Common Room? Or did you stay behind for a different friendly chat?"

He could feel Moody's grin. The same one that said he held the power, though they both knew Albus had instructed the ex-auror to stay behind, and if he didn't, the headmaster would have no problem bringing Severus up to date on things. Their relationship may have been strained more than ever, but he knew the headmaster would confide in him in the end.

"Williamson discovered traces of a dark spell used in the Diagon Alley attack which has the ability to strip a structure of any previously placed enchantments," Moody told him, and Severus opened his eyes as he considered the implications.

"All previous enchantments?" He clarified.

Moody nodded with an almost sinister smile. In another era, this would be the type of case Moody would thrive on. "Every single one. It's what caused the buildings to crumble in Diagon Alley. And they found it again in Godric's Hollow."

"Dammit," Severus cursed. "And I take it, that's how the window in the Dungeons broke?" To answer, the other wizard tapped his right temple with his middle finger. His mind was reeling in the possibilities. "So you're saying one of my students did this? Unless of course… can spells be time-lapsed?"

"We're in uncharted waters, Snape," Moody told him, finally standing to take his leave. "But if I had to take a guess, I'd say as the Hogwarts Defense Master, not to mention your previous run-ins with this level of magic, you have a pretty good head start."

~~~~HP~~~~

After leaving Snape to be interrogated by Moody and an auror Harry didn't want to get to know, the young wizard decided to head back to the Tower to try to rest his sore body. Though he'd been woken up early that morning in the hospital wing by another round of angry Slytherin parents, he didn't feel nearly as tired as he expected. He hadn't slept well last night because he'd been plagued with nightmares most of the night - once he'd gone back to bed from his talk with Draco - yet he couldn't imagine trying to sleep at the moment. It ended up being a good thing because the instant his feet crossed through the portrait hole, he was bombarded by Gryffindors who had obviously found out about his knowledge of the events.

"... heard the windows broke!"

"Bet Khatib had something to do…"

"...Giant Squid made its way…"

Through the series of loud questions being shot at him from every which way, Harry came to the conclusion the rest of the school had only been informed about an accident occurring in the dungeons injuring students and displacing the entire Slytherin house.

"Break it up, you vultures!" Ron's voice yelled from the other side of the room as he approached Harry, "Let the man breathe a bit."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry mumbled and walked with his friend over to the corner where a set of first years quickly moved out from the plush armchairs. Shortly after sitting down - minding his bruised side - Seamus, Dean and Ginny, and Neville all joined them. Only then did Harry notice the rain pouring down the window explaining why most of the house had been indoors when classes were cancelled. "Where's Hermione?"

"Dunno," Ron shrugged, "guessing checking in on Malfoy. I'm surprised you didn't see her, she was in a right fit yesterday over the two of you."

Harry nodded, unsure if there was a more appropriate answer he should have gone with.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ginny asked him, her head turned as he winced in pain from the sitting position.

"I will be," he told her. "Trust me, Dr Swanson wouldn't let me leave otherwise. I'm just sore from falling… or getting knocked down… by the water."

"So it really did flood?" Had any other person in Gryffindor asked him besides Neville, Harry would have waved off the confirmation of the rumor everyone wanted to know about. Neville's innocent voice, though, tore through him and he found himself giving yet another nod.

"Blimey," Seamus declared, unable to keep the smirk from his face. At Neville's sad glare, the Irishman laughed and said, "c'mon dahn't tell me you've never cahnsidered it. We all talked abooeht it 'appenin at sahme point… weshed it even."

Guilt. The guilt Harry had been pushing away over the whole event started to resurface against his wishes. He tried to convince himself the emotion he'd become far too familiar with over the years was there because he knew if he hadn't left Snape's quarters the man would be able to go back to his home instead of needing to stay in the guest quarters for an indeterminate amount of time.

It would be a lie though.

Then he tried to tell himself he felt guilty because never would he wish something like this on anyone, no matter how badly they treated him in the past. But that would also be a lie, and with each lie he told himself, the guilt continued to eat away at his conscience. The truth he wanted to deny wouldn't stay hidden away. Every year the Slytherins - the children supporting the dark wizard who actively tried to kill him over and over - continued to berate him, and when he'd been in some of his darkest moments, Harry couldn't say he'd never wished for those windows to break and whatever fallout to happen; to give the students who caused him so much grief a taste of their own cruelty. However, unlike his own father and godfather at the same age, Harry knew he would never act on those teenage boy impulses. He would never tell an unsuspecting kid how to follow his werewolf friend to get attacked, and he didn't actually want any of his classmates to die. A small consolation to his guilty conscience could have been that he'd outgrown the thoughts on wanting the Slytherins to experience some anomaly anymore, except the current target of his rage had been shifted to Oliver Ackerly as of late.

"So what happened?" asked Dean, once all the debating over who wanted to see the Slytherins' demise ended. "Was anyone seriously hurt?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, still in a strange haze, shaking his head to clear it, "a lot of kids were. Some even had to go to St Mungo's last night, but last I heard there were no fatalities."

The simple admission, - and saying the word, fatalities, that could damage so many people in its wake - opened a floodgate within the young wizard and he told them everything he could remember: the water trickling into Snape's quarters, his mistake in opening the door, and swimming down the corridor in the freezing water to meet McGonagall on the stairs. He'd told it all only a couple of hours ago to Tonks when she arrived in the hospital wing prior to his discharge to question him. At first, he assumed the Hufflepuff had only wanted to know about the timeline of what happened, but while she did take a detailed account of his actions, they spent an inordinate amount of time going over his purpose for being in the Dungeons last night. He answered her honestly, about Snape requesting to have dinner and then serve his detention down there. Whether he'd answered correctly or not, he wasn't sure because it then turned into an inquisition over the reasoning behind having dinner with the professor. Things like: How often are you down here for dinner? Do you usually serve detention in the professor's classroom? What did Professor Snape have you do for detention? The last one he found himself partially lying about, telling her he'd been assigned lines about controlling his anger instead of needing to write two hundred things on his mind; a feat which wouldn't be nearly as difficult now. Overall, her questioning didn't really phase the him too much, already used to being blamed for the strange things happening in the castle - like the Chamber of Secrets opening or somehow being chosen as a fourth champion in the Triwizard tournament - however by the end he started to wonder how much of a suspect he'd been for her to be so pointed in several of them.

"So how did they get out of the Common Room?" Dean logically asked once Harry had finished catching them all up on his own account from the events.

"I dunno," Harry shrugged, "I'm guessing Severus helped them somehow, but I haven't really gotten a chance to talk to him about it. I also think Hala had something to do with it because she came out last, but she didn't seem nearly as… concerned, maybe… or hurt as everyone else."

"That wouldn't surprise me," Ron claimed, "I bet she knew about it ahead of time. You don't think someone did this on purpose instead of some freak accident, do you?"

"You're being ridiculous, Ron," Ginny laughed at him. "Who would get into the school and attack the Slytherins of all people?!"

Ron and Harry shared a look knowing full well Hogwarts wasn't some impenetrable fortress. In fact, Harry wouldn't think twice about that happening if it had been Gryffindor attacked. For Slytherin to be attacked, though, seemed almost too far fetched, except based on his conversation with Tonks it seemed like their leading theory. How else could one account for enchantments placed centuries ago suddenly breaking without any warning? How long did enchantments last? Surely they had to be reset every once in a while, right? But if that were true, then wouldn't someone - most likely Dumbledore - know they needed updating? He wanted to ask Hermione, who would probably know the answers to all of these questions, but he had a feeling the words Hogwarts: A History would leave her lips and he cringed at the thought. He'd ask Snape, who would give him a short, succinct "yes" or "no".

At this point, another dozen Gryffindors - most of whom Harry didn't personally know - had gathered around making him feel oddly claustrophobic. Spending most of his childhood sleeping in a cupboard under the stairs meant claustrophobic wasn't a feeling he got too often, but when he did encounter it he felt sick.

"What abooeht all dat stuff de Prahphets been sayin'?" Seamus raised his brows in curiosity. "It can't be all roehbbesh."

"No," Harry vehemently denied. He believed all the reasons Snape had been saying for weeks, but even more than that, something about it didn't seem right to him either, "if it's Death Eaters, then why attack the children of Voldemort's followers? Not to mention, most of them are sitting in Azkaban right now. It makes absolutely no sense."

"I heard they're looking at Professor Snape," a second year, Leilani from his first Charms class, leaned in to say. The witch reminded him too much of Hermione for her own good.

"Where'd you hear that?" Neville asked in disbelief. "You're talking about a professor trying to kill his own students. That's a big accusation to make."

"Well it definitely wouldn't be the first time it's happened," Ron casually mentioned, and yet none of the other students would understand even half of the meaning behind the statement.

Harry noticed their corner suddenly got quiet and when he looked around, every set of eyes were on him.

"Besides the fact he wouldn't do something like this," Harry started, rolling his eyes, hating that they had to have this conversation, "I was with him from dinner time until the alarm sounded. He didn't have time to get into the Slytherin Common Room and disable the enchantments on the windows."

"Of course you'd say that. You practically killed yourself to protect him, so you're not exactly the best judge of his character," a fifth year, Simeon Codde, challenged. "I'm not saying you're wrong, but I've heard you and Snape are-"

Moving faster than Harry had ever seen him, Ron stood up and shoved the smaller wizard before he could finish his sentence. "Leave 'im alone, Codde."

"Friends with Ackerly, are you?" Harry shook his head disgusted. He didn't need this, especially now of all times.

"You can't blame people for asking questions," Codde jeered. "Two years ago, everyone knew the deep loathing between the two of you and now you're having dinner and living with the man. What do you expect people to think?"

"Let me give you a piece of friendly house-advice," Ron warned, pulling the other Gryffindor up by the collar of his jumper, "we protect our own, and you don't want to be on the wrong side of this."

"Leave it alone, Ron," Harry stood, ready to get away from the Common Room. "I really don't care what the lot of them think."

He pushed his way past the group of Gryffindors and across the Common Room, ignoring the stares from everyone watching him, straight out of the portrait hole. If nothing else, this gave him a good excuse to leave the suffocating room. It had all become too much to process: the rumors, the shipping document, his classes, and now the flood and with it, Snape's - and his own - accusation of guilt. He knew the professor well enough at this point to know he wouldn't do something like this to anyone; at least not to anyone as innocent as his students. And even if it were the old Snape, the man would be a little more sly about the whole thing. Realistically, Snape had studied the Dark Arts for most of his life before becoming a spy, if he wanted to kill someone, no one would ever know about it. That thought caused Harry to shiver.

For the second time that day, the young wizard's legs took him on a journey without him consciously thinking about where he wanted to go; which probably would've been back to the hospital wing. In almost no time at all, he found himself standing outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, a place that held so much history in the school - with a professor almost every year trying to kill him - and recently where so much of his internal consternation originated. For being so excited to be in Snape's class, he now dreaded attending Defense even more than he ever had with Potions.

Though he knew the door to the classroom would be locked - Snape often talked of his distrust in students when given access to a room filled with objects used to study against the Dark Arts - but it didn't stop him from trying it anyways. Frustrated by the unbudging door, Harry kicked the bottom as hard as he could, immediately regretting the decision when his right toes began to throb in his trainers. Defeated, he leaned against the wall under a stained glass window to the left of the classroom and sank to the floor. With his knees drawn and his forehead resting on top of them, he sat there allowing his guilt, anger, and grief to consume him.

He could have been sitting there for ten minutes or ten hours, the time feeling as if it rushed and crept by simultaneously, when he heard a soft voice ask, "Harry? Are you alright?"

Not having to lift his head to know Hermione had joined him, he answered into his knees, "I really wish people would stop asking me that."

"We're worried about you," she told him, and then the air around him shifted making her presence sitting beside him known. "There's been a lot going on lately with you."

This time, Harry did turn his head to look at his friend, who he now realized had to have been seeking him out because her room wasn't near the Defense classroom.

"How's Draco?"

She gave a nervous smile, "I'm not going to let you get away with changing the subject that easily… but he's… struggling too. I heard you guys talked last night."

"He doesn't come across as one to kiss and tell," Harry sarcastically said.

The joke had its intended effect and the witch laughed, "He's not usually, but with the concussion he's been speaking… a little more liberally than usual."

"He told me he reserved the right to punch me at some point in the future."

She smiled and Harry's angry mood practically melted away. "That sounds like him. I wouldn't worry too much about it. If anything, it shows he's still planning to be your friend in the future."

"I really hadn't thought about it like it," he grudgingly admitted. "Are we considered friends?"

Hermione shrugged. "I imagine as much as anyone in your situation can. Anyway," she paused, and Harry could feel her question coming upon him, "tell me what's going on," she urged him, reaching over and placing her hand onto his arm resting on his knee. "Something's been off lately, we can tell."

"I can handle it," Harry tried to say, but her face told him he wouldn't get out of it this time. She'd stayed by his side through thick and thin and he needed to be able to lean on her and Ron; now more than ever. "I'm just getting tired of everyone questioning mine and Severus's relationship. I don't see why it matters or where they got the idea in the first place."

Hermione uncharacteristically bit her top lip as she frowned. "You never did hear about the Prophet article after Bill's wedding, did you?" Harry nervously shook his head. "Well-" she scrunched her eyes, and though he could connect the dots, he didn't fill in the awkward space, "-they may have implied a less parental relationship between the two of you because he…" another uncomfortable pause, "escorted you - their words - to the wedding."

Even being able to guess what had been written about him didn't make the blow any easier. Closing his eyes, he took three deep breaths in order to stop himself from turning around and punching the stone wall behind him. Yet another reason to hate that bloody paper, he scuffed his foot across the stone floor as he thought about what he'd say to Rita Skeeter if given the chance.

"I really hate her," he ended up saying to Hermione, surprising himself with the lack of vigor in his voice. Somehow he'd managed to accept this as his fate. "She has no right reporting on things she knows nothing about."

"You're preaching to the choir, Harry." The muggle phrase completely threw him off and they both ended up laughing. "Seriously, what is going on with Professor Snape?"

The question, though expected, made him startle. He'd been through so much with her and Ron, he couldn't believe he hadn't told them yet.

"You can't tell anyone," Harry prompted, and as expected she nodded her head. "Not even Draco."

The second condition caused her to narrow her eyes, weighing the truth she was about to receive against the need to keep it from her boyfriend. Eventually, longer than Harry thought necessary - proving not only how serious the couple had become, but also how making amends with the Slytherin had been a good idea after all - she nodded her agreement.

"He seems different," Harry started, looking down at his hand rolling a stone on the ground beneath his palm, "because he is different."

The moment the sentence left his mouth, Harry realized how much he'd been dying to tell someone about his history. So right there in the corridor outside of the Snape's classroom, he told her about how odd the professor had been acting when he first showed up at his relative's house last summer, then how on the night before the Privet Drive attack he learned the man had come from somewhere completely different; a world where Harry had officially become his son on paper, but he still had Leukemia and choosing a different route, succumbed to the disease. Hermione listened, encouraging him when he needed it and asking questions as they came up - how could he be sure Snape had told him the truth? How did he feel about the situation? Were there any side effects from the mysterious potion? Did he know the name of the potion, which of course, she'd be researching, or where it came from? He answered what he could, ignored what he didn't want to answer, and reassured the Gryffindor witch over and over that as odd as it sounded, he trusted Snape completely and, most importantly, he was happy. He could tell for her it was all she needed to hear. By the time they reached the end, the pair of friends were leaning against one another in a position which felt to Harry so much like if he had a sister.

"You can't tell Draco," Harry reminded her. "I doubt Severus has told him anything, and I definitely don't want to be the reason he finds out."

"Of course I won't," she reassured him, but at the same time, he could see her mind working through the situation. "Although…" her voice rose like it always did when she came up with a unique, and usually smart, idea, "he has gotten pretty close to Goldstein and may be able to help you with your Ackerly problem. I won't say a word without your permission, but just think about it, alright? You have enough going on right now, let us help if we can."

Us. We. Harry may have told her he'd think it over, except he already knew he wouldn't take her up on it. The last thing he needed was for Draco to fight his fights for him… especially one he didn't think he should be fighting in the first place.

"So why didn't he adopt you here? Professor Snape?" asked Hermione, curiously. "I mean, I know you don't really need a parent now that you're of age, but there has to be some benefit to it, right?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged, trying to pretend it didn't bother him either way. "He just never asked me to."

Hermione's arm reached around and gave him a hug - careful not to squeeze too hard on his injured side - right as his stomach grumbled giving away his missed lunch.

"Let's go to dinner," she smiled at him. "I don't even want to know if you've eaten anything today."

Dinner had been an uneventful meal - to which Harry was eternally thankful over - and the rest of his night only further raised his spirits. Healer Smithe's magical testing showed his magic making more progress even with his lack of Transfiguration class, and the healer felt confident that by his next treatment on the 11th the IV of Morphine would be enough to keep him comfortable should the magical core pain return. The healer checked his injuries to make sure they were continuing to heal, then ran a diagnostic charm to check for any sign of infection; something Harry hadn't considered after spending however long he did in the cold water.

Afterwards he went straight to the hospital wing to visit Snape, as he promised earlier. With the good news regarding his magic, healing side, and clear diagnostic scan, plus his confession to Hermione, the young wizard found he wasn't nearly as interested in continuing to discuss the rumors of their relationship and for reasons Harry didn't question, Snape also dropped the subject. The conversation had been far from uneventful though. Harry learned Snape would be released from the infirmary in the morning, and to expect an announcement from Dumbledore at breakfast about classes being cancelled again tomorrow. He almost asked why, but from the look on Snape's face, he knew it had to do with the aurors and their investigation.

He stayed with the professor until curfew when Madam Pomfrey forced him to leave; a new situation for the Gryffindor since he normally was the one stuck there, not visiting. Getting into bed that night - having survived the walk through the Common Room - Harry had never been so happy to put the last two days behind him. The whole school had a lot coming up as they all did their part to fix the Dungeons, help the Slytherins adjust to their displacement, play host to the Aurors investigating the accident, and adjusting to life under the knowledge that both he and Snape were likely the prime suspects in whatever they might find in the coming days.