“She needs to go, Albus.” Snape had both palms planted on Dumbledore’s desk as he leaned over and stared the older man down. Students never failed to quail at this move, but Dumbledore, of course, was hardly a nervous first year.

“My options are limited, my boy.” Dumbledore shrugged with one shoulder. “She was appointed by Minister Fudge himself.”

“Bollocks! You’re one of the most powerful wizards alive. Don’t sit there and tell me you can do nothing.”

Dumbledore regarded Snape over his half moon spectacles. His long fingers were pressed together at the tips.

“Why now?” He asked.

“What?”

“Why the sudden interest in removing Dolores from her post?”

Snape leaned off the desk and brushed some hair from his face. “She tortures the students in detention.”

Dumbledore said nothing.

“What? No response? Does that not bother you?”

“I’m more interested in why it bothers you. You’re not one to, ah, bend over backwards with concern for the students.”

“I’m an uncaring bastard, you mean.” Snape suggested.

“Many of your students may say so. Would Harry?”

Snape frowned. “Harry. You mean Potter?”

Albus raised his brows.

Snape shrugged. “Most likely. It’s not for me to say what goes through the boy’s brain.”

“Harry recently served detention with Dolores, did he not?” Dumbledore said.

“Yes.” Snape hissed. “She used a blood quill on him. Repeatedly. His hand is ravaged!”

“Poor lad.”

Snape spluttered. “Poor l—you should see the marks. It’s disgusting what she’s allowed to do. Know what? I’ll show you.”

Snape marched to the fireplace and chucked a handful of floo powder into the flames. He yelled for the Gryffindor common room and stuck his head in.

“Potter!” He snapped.

On the other side of the fireplace, Harry almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Snape’s fire-muffled voice shouting his name. He was in the middle of a game of exploding snap with Ron and Dean and Ginny and the small explosion of cards singed his fingers. He hissed and put his fingertips in his mouth.

“Potter!” Snape yelled again.

“Yeah—hang on, what sir?” Harry turned around and spoke to Snape’s scowling fire-shaped head.

“Come through. Now.” He vanished.

“What happened?” Ron asked.

“No bloody idea. Play without me, who knows how long this’ll take.” Harry went through the fireplace and stepped not into Snape’s office, but Dumbledore’s. He glanced between Snape’s angry face and Dumbledore’s kind one before Snape tilted his head towards the large desk.

“Show him your hand.” Snape commanded.

Harry approached the Headmaster. He pulled at the knot on the handkerchief. “Hullo, sir.” He said quietly.

“Good morning, Harry. I trust you’re spending your free hours studying diligently for the O.W.L exams?”

“Er, yeah, I...”

“Potter,” Snape said, “you have soot on your face from an exploding snap game.”

“Dammit.” Harry muttered, furiously rubbing at his cheek.

Snape noticed his own handkerchief once again tied around Harry’s hand. “We have proper bandages too, you know.” Snape scolded him without heat as Harry tugged the kerchief knot free.

“This works.” Harry said.

Dumbledore smiled and Harry offered his hand.

“Look.” Snape strode over and grabbed Harry’s wrist, guiding it under Dumbledore’s long nose. “He’s cut! He’s wounded! She did this to him and who knows how many other students! He doesn’t need to deal with this on top of the beatings I’ve been giving him.” Snape turned to Harry. “Did you find that ointment this morning?”

A pot of medicated ointment had appeared on Harry’s bedside shelf this morning with instructions to rub the medicine on twice a day.

“Yes.”

“Did you put it on?”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Don’t give me that look.” Snape chided.

“Then stop fussing at me. You think I want these cuts? Of course I put it on.”

Dumbledore had to bite back a laugh at the expression on Snape’s face.

“I’m not fussing, let me see.” Snape grabbed Harry’s wrist and pointed his wand at the carved words and muttered the same incantation he used the previous night. The shimmery tendrils of white light swirled into his cuts, stinging, and Harry’s face scrunched up in pain. Snape finished and Harry looked. The cuts were shrinking by the day. This incantation and the medicine were certainly helping but there was an excellent chance there’d be a scar. Blood quills were dark objects.

“Thank you.” Harry said. He wrapped the kerchief around his hand again.

“It’s the least I can do after all the required beatings.”

“Sir, it’s for the potion.” Harry said to him quietly. “You’re not beating me.”

“Rubbish. Potion or not, what you’re getting from me is not normal discipline.”

Dumbledore raised his brows. How different Severus’ attitude was compared to their last little chat in his office. Last time Severus had been eager to smack the boy. He saw it as a duty, one he’d happily accept.

“It’s the potion, it’s not you.” Harry pushed.

“Yes, Severus. It certainly sounds like the potion is the bad guy in this particular instance.” Dumbledore purposely echoed his earlier words and Snape rolled his eyes, remembering their last meeting.

“It doesn’t change the fact that I’m the one doling it out.” Snape told Harry.

“Would you be hitting me if I hadn’t taken the Nox rubrum?”

“If you deserve it, Potter, I have no problem giving out a well-earned spanking.”

Harry huffed. “Would you be hitting me as much as you are if I hadn’t taken the Nox rubrum?”

“No.”

“Do you want me dead?” Harry snapped. “Because that’ll happen if you don’t hit me.”

Now Snape huffed. He folded his arms, looking away from the boy. “I don’t want you dead, you fool. You know that.”

Dumbledore grinned behind his steepled fingers.

“Is Umbridge getting sacked?” Harry asked bluntly.

“Apparently not!” Snape hissed to Dumbledore.

“This school exists because the Ministry of Magic allows it.” Dumbledore said. “Madame Umbridge is Cornelius’ undersecretary. There’s no higher position in the Ministry save the Minister himself. Or herself, I suppose.”

“So she can just fillet the students as she feels like it.” Snape said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Got it. Understood. Harry, go back to your common room.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry glanced between Snape and Dumbledore and flooed away. Snape gave Dumbledore a fake bow and said, “by your leave,” before he turned and strode for the door.

“Severus, she wasn’t fired, however, plans are in motion to get her removed.”

Snape scoffed and left.




Harry was walking to Herbology later that day. Well, he was running to Herbology. He had been talking with Ginny and lost track of time and was sure Sprout would give him detention if he was late again.

“Mr. Potter!” A sweet, girlish voice called from the classroom he flew past.

Fuckin’ hell, Umbridge.

“Stop running this instant!”

“Can’t!” He shouted back her. He kept running and then he was hitting the ground hard, skidding over the marble floor. His bag flew over his shoulder and he couldn’t move anything below the waist.

“When I give an order, Mr. Potter, you follow it.” She said, coming to stand over him with her wand drawn. She stared down at him with a prim little smile on her face.

“Let me up.” He growled.

“Promise me you’ll walk.”

“I’m not promising you anything!” Harry hissed.

“Naughty boy, Harry.” She said. She levitated him to his feet and unlocked his legs. At the other end of the corridor behind her, two figures came into view. It was Snape and McGonagall and it seemed they were having an animated discussion by the way McGonagall was waving her hands. She looked annoyed by whatever she was talking about. Snape glanced up and saw Harry and Umbridge. His expression morphed from amusement at whatever McGonagall was saying to rage when he saw Umbridge scolding Harry. He started jogging towards them. Harry forced himself to look at Umbridge’s ugly pink ruffled hat and ignore a furious Snape billowing up behind her.

“You owe me more detentions,” she jabbed her finger at him, “not to mention that caning I promised you. I know you tried to get Professor Snape to weasel you out of it. Well, that’s certainly not going to happen!”

“You’re not allowed to—”

“Silence!” She raised her hand. Harry ducked his head down and the slap meant for his face crashed into his shoulder. Harry lurched to the side, clutching his arm.

Snape ran the last few yards and and swooped in front of Umbridge. His dark cloak flew gracefully about his legs and he put a hand out behind him to gently push Harry back.

“What are you doing?!” He bellowed at her.

“That foul boy attacked me!” She said, surprised to see him.

“No I didn’t!” Harry stepped out from behind Snape. “She used the leg lock jinx on me!”

“What’s going on?” McGonagall strode up to them and looked at Harry. “What happened, Harry?”

“I was going to class and she attacked me.” Harry said.

“This boy is allowed to get away with far too much!” Umbridge snapped. “He must be punished since he is a foul little liar.”

“But Professor, don’t you remember?” Harry growled. “I must not tell lies.”

Umbridge’s face turned puce with rage and she lunged towards Harry. He hopped back.

“You horrible, wretched old toad!” Harry shouted. He clenched his fists. He wanted to lunge back at her, to attack her with his bare hands.

“Dolores you will control yourself!” Snape commanded in a hard, angry voice. She stopped advancing. Snape laid his hand softly on Harry’s shoulder.

“Dolores,” McGonagall stepped in Umbridge’s space. “I think we at this school have had quite enough of you. As Deputy Headmistress I am officially dismissing you from your position as Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. You may pack your bags at once.”

Snape folded his arms in an angry, defensive way, silently daring her to argue.

“But Minerva, maybe you have forgotten,” Umbridge said sweetly, “I was appointed by the Minister of Magic himself.”

“Yes I think we have all learned something about Cornelius’ taste—or lack thereof—in staff. I know Griselda Marchbanks would love to hear about what’s been going on at Hogwarts this year. The W.E.A is awfully particular about how well our fifth years do on their Ordinary Wizarding Level exams. It would be a shame for our students to fail their Defense exam and for Hogwarts to lose its fine standing among the world’s magical schools. You, as undersecretary, know how much Cornelius values Griselda’s opinion. I’m certain he would love to hear about just why all the fifth years failed their Defense exams.”

“I, I—“ Umbridge stuttered. Her face had gone pale. That only seemed to give McGonagall more fuel. She stepped forward again, forcing Umbridge to step back.

“I do believe that should our students do poorly on the DADA portion of the exams, the blame would fall squarely on you!” Her voice rose to a shrill octave. Harry had more than once been on the receiving end of one of these lectures. McGongall could make a person feel about two inches tall and Harry was delighted to see Umbridge getting it. “You have done this entire school, and especially Harry, a huge disservice. Now go!” She pointed towards the exit.

Umbridge stared at her for a few moments, looking like she wanted to say something, before she turned on her heel and strode away.

McGonagall straightened her robe, adjusted her hat, and turned to face Harry and Snape.

“That was bloody wicked, Professor.” Harry said with a grin.

“Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Potter. Now maybe you can salvage what remains of your class period?”

He nodded and picked up his bag. Snape handed him an excuse note for Professor Sprout and Harry hurried off.

“Oh, that felt good.” McGonagall said to Snape. “I cannot wait until I tell Griselda about this when we have tea next week.”

Snape laughed.

Harry told Hermione and Ron all about what happened as they walked from Herbology to Defense against the Dark Arts.

“I wish you could have seen it. McGonagall was brilliant!” Harry said, delighted. “She told her that this witch named, like, Griselda something would be really upset if we failed our exams and she was all ‘what would Fudge say’ and then Umbridge looked like she was going to faint. McGonagall really tore her a new one.”

“Oh…” Hermione nodded in understanding. “The W.E.A would be upset if too many students failed.”

“What is that?” Harry asked.

“Wizarding Examination Authority.” Ron said. “They’re in charge of the O.W.Ls and the N.E.W.Ts. What?” He said to Harry’s surprised face. “Dad works at the ministry! The W.E.A is part of the ministry, kind of. Dad’s said Fudge is scared of them. If all of us come off as really thick on the exams then the W.E.A can push to get Fudge replaced because if Hogwarts starts to look a bit shit it reflects badly on the Ministry. I don’t really get how it all works.”

“Griselda Marchbanks is the Head of the W.E.A.” Hermione added.

“Huh. Okay. So if McGonagall’s sacked Umbridge, who’s going to be teaching us Defense now?”




The three of them entered the DADA classroom. “Professor Lupin!” Harry crowed.

“Hello Harry!” He said, grinning.

Other students were filing in, curious at the change in teacher.

“Are you teaching this class now?” Harry asked.

“I am.” He said.

“Yes!” Ron clenched his fist.

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me ‘til the end of term. I understand the fifth years are a bit behind.”

“You have no idea.”

Harry hoped that Snape and McGonagall teamed up and chucked Umbridge out a window. He could dream.

Lupin spent most of the class time figuring out what they had been learning (which was nothing) and what they needed to be working on for the O.W.L (which was a lot). Lupin didn’t look overwhelmed at all by the amount of work remaining before they had to take their O.W.L exams. He actually looked excited. The class flew by and they all took a turn with practicing defensive spells, which was a welcome change from all the sitting quietly and reading. At the end of the period everyone left the class in a good mood.

A third year came up to Harry with a note. He opened it and glanced it over before crumpling it up.

“What’s up?” Ron asked as they set their bags down on a study table.

“I have detention with Snape and he changed the time tonight from seven to eight.”

He remembered how much he’d been crying last night when he told Snape about Umbridge and felt stupid. How could he have cried so much in front of Snape? The man probably thought he was totally mental.

“Detention? Rough luck!” Ron said.

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

“He said he wants me to finish off Umbridge’s assigned detentions with him. I have three more nights. He was pretty pissed off at her.”

“You’re still going to to Hogsmeade, right?”

“Yes.” Harry said, relieved. “She took it away from me, but Snape gave it back.”

“Decent of him.” Ron said, opening his book. No more was said about it. They quizzed each other on example O.W.L Transfiguration questions and by the time the study period ended, Harry felt like he was in a good place to take the Transfiguration part of the test.

Evening came all too soon and Harry loaded up his bag with all his school work as Snape instructed. “If you get back early enough, Harry,” Hermione said, “we’ll probably still be studying for the O.W.Ls in the common room.”

“I’ll join you if I’m not too worn out.” Harry said. He took himself to Snape’s office. The door was already open when he arrived. He knocked on the jamb. “Hello, sir.” He looked around, a bit apprehensive, wondering what awful task Snape would have him do.

“Harry.” Snape said by way of greeting. He pointed his quill at the small table in the far corner. Harry had sat there many a time serving line-writing detentions. He dropped his bag beside the chair and sat, exhaling a deep breath.

“You’re hardly on your way to the gallows so you can get that look off your face.” Snape sounded amused. “You brought your school work?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Do it. You should be able to make a dent by the end of tonight.”

Harry stared at him. “You’re letting me do homework?”

“Of course. Why else do you think I had you bring your books?”

Oh.

“Thank you, sir!” He grabbed his Herbology textbook and a quill and got going. It was much easier to concentrate down here in Snape’s office. There was nothing to distract him. The common room had Ron and Hermione, Fred and George, stuff from Zonko’s, a chess board, comfortable furniture, sweets and snacks. Snape’s office had Snape, a table and a chair. Harry quickly got into the groove of working and finished his Herbology and Divination in under an hour and a half. He had just pulled out his Transfiguration when Snape stood up from his desk and put his quill aside. He stretched his back and wandered over to Harry, walking slowly behind him to look over his shoulder in that teacher way of his. The sense of Umbridge behind him had made his skin crawl but Harry found he didn’t mind at all when Snape stood behind him while he was working.

“What are you working on?” He asked.

“Transfiguration. I have a couple essays. I’m gonna try outlining what I want to say for them before I begin actually writing. Hermione said that’s what she does and she always gets good marks on her essays.”

Snape hummed in approval. “That’s a good plan.”

“Will you let me do that essay I missed?” Harry asked, boosted by the praise.

“I suppose. You’ll get points off though for that asinine stunt you pulled with Weasley.”

“Okay. I mean, I haven’t started it at all. I don’t even have an idea.”

“Don’t worry about that. Focus on what’s due first now, then what’s going to take the longest. Focus on your O.W.Ls too.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Snape laid an encouraging hand on his shoulder and went back to his desk. Harry cracked his neck and began outlining the first Transfiguration essay, jotting a few bullet points. He’d started on the second when he heard the bell toll outside. It was eleven o’clock.

Harry sat back in his chair. He’d been in here for three hours. He glanced at Snape. He was at his desk, reading. He wasn’t even working.

“Uh, Snape?”

“Hm?”

“How long is my detention?”

“How much time do you need? You’re coming back tomorrow and Friday too.”

“Uh….I think I can stop here. I got a bunch done.”

“Good. Go on to your dorm, then. Take the floo.”

“Okay.” Harry packed up his stuff and levitated his bag towards the fireplace. “‘Night, sir. Thanks.”




Harry came back the following night and like before, Snape had him doing homework. Harry knocked out both Transfiguration essays in under two hours. Harry finished the rest of his Divination star chart, his Potions work, and got through the entirety of his History of Magic reading. The bell tolled outside but Harry didn’t care. He wasn’t tired at all. He read a section of his Transfiguration book and answered the end of chapter questions. He was cracking open his DADA textbook when Snape said, “Harry?”

He looked up.

“Are you nearly finished?”

“I wanted to do more reading. I’m on a roll, Snape. I don’t want to stop.”

Snape pursed his lips.

“You can go.” Harry said. “I’ll be fine in here. Just another hour-ish.”

Snape didn’t say anything. He didn’t fancy a student unattended in his office but at the same time he knew Harry wouldn’t do anything. It was in his backside’s best interest to not break any rules.

“An hour, I swear.”

“Fine.” Snape pointed at him. “But if if get the slightest hint you were snooping…”

“You won’t! God, you think I would dare? I don’t want to get pummeled again.”

Harry went back to his book. Snape stood. “Don’t be up too late.” He went through a door on the opposite side of the office and Harry was alone. He caught up on all his DADA reading and decided to push himself and do some more O.W.L studying. The tests were in two weeks and every fifth year in the school was cramming as much knowledge into their brains as they could. The office fire burned lower.

The bell outside tolled two a.m. and exhaustion came over Harry like a wave. He stood up and moved to the sofa hidden around the corner behind a shelf and laid down on it. He’d have a power nap and then go back to his reading. Just a few minutes….

“Harry. Harry! Potter!”

He woke up at Snape’s biting voice. He sat up without thinking, confused for a moment before remembering. Detention. Snape. Sofa. He was in Snape’s office. Snape was in front of him, throwing his black cloak on over his clothes.

“Don’t be late for your first class.” Snape said. “The teacher’s a real bastard.”

Harry stared at him and Snape gave him the barest hint of a smile.

“You made a joke. I’ve never heard you make a joke before.”

“The joke will be on you if you’re late for my class. Breakfast is almost done.”

“Shit.” He stood up and came around the corner. Sunlight was shining through the office door. He glanced at the clock. It was after eight.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here.” Harry said, jamming his books in his bag. He was expecting the Nox rubrum to roar to life. It didn’t. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Snape said with a small shrug. He didn’t seem upset at all. Oh.

Harry crammed his quill into a pocket.

“Did you get a lot done?” Snape asked.

“Oh yeah. Loads. Thanks for letting me stay.”

“You’re welcome, Harry. Don’t be too late.”

“Jeez, alright, I’ll be on time to your class.” Harry said, sounding harassed as he towards the door.

“I meant for breakfast.” Snape said. “Use the floo!”

Harry did, and tumbled into the common room. His bag rolled across the floor and he left it there, galloping up to his dorm. He slipped into the room. Ron was in there, changing.

“There you are! Where’ve you been!

“With Snape.” He threw off his wrinkled robes and started to change.

“This whole time?!”

“I fell asleep.”

“In detention?” Ron looked really confused.

“It’s not really detention. I’ll tell you at breakfast.”

Ron seemed okay with this and Harry finished changing his clothes.

At breakfast he told them about how Snape was letting him do homework in detention.

“Blimey.” Ron said. “He’s being nice to you.”

“I think he feels bad about everything.” Harry said with a shrug. “He’s not a wanker when it’s just the two of us. He’s, like, a normal person. Not like in class.”

“I’m glad you’re getting all your work done.” Hermione said. She was immensely grateful to Professor Snape. Harry had looked so wretched the night of Umbridge’s last detention. Since that evening and then spending two nights of detention with Snape Harry had been calmer and more steady. He was able to focus on studying for the O.W.L exams with them all. The tension had drained from his shoulders and whatever Snape was doing was helping more than her Essence of Murtlap and healing potions.

In Potions class that morning, Snape had them making Fire Protection Potions.

“There’s plenty of time to complete this.” Snape said, striding around the room as the students prepared ingredients. “Read the instructions and then read them again. I don’t want to see idiotic mistakes.”

Hermione made her Fire Protection Potion in twenty minutes and it turned out perfectly. It was a deep orange-red.

“You’re done?” Ron said. “Why is mine black?”

Harry snickered and added the Wartcap powder to his, stirring as the liquid deepened from lime green to ruby red. Snape was standing near their table, arms folded, glowering at the room. Harry realized Ron had probably gotten nervous and messed up because of Snape’s proximity. Months ago, he too would have messed up, intimidated by the frowning man. Now though? Snape really didn’t scare him anymore.

“Did you add the salamander blood?” Harry asked.

“Yes!”

“Did you stir it counter-clockwise?”

Ron reread the instructions. “Bloody hell. Stirred it wrong.”

“Redo it.” Harry said, glancing at Snape, who didn’t seem to paying an ounce of attention to them. “It doesn’t take long. Here, use the rest of my Wartcap powder.”

Ron paused. “Okay.” He trotted off to the supply cabinet.

“Harry, that looks great.” Hermione said, eying his cauldron.

“Thanks.” He said. He glanced at Snape. The man looked at him and then glanced at his cauldron. He gave Harry a barely perceptible shrug and raised brow that Harry took to mean, it’s not an awful attempt, Potter.

Snape came over to them and Harry and Hermione snapped their mouths shut. “Miss Granger, please see me after class.”

She nodded. “Yes, Professor.”

Snape moved away, drawn by a small explosion at the other end of the room.

“What does he want?” She asked.

Harry shrugged before remembering. He grit his teeth in sympathy.

“Oh, um…I may have accidentally told him you were taking supplies from the potions cabinet.”

“What?! Harry! I was doing that to help you!”

“I know, I know!” Harry said. “I’m sorry. I told him not to be upset with you.”

She huffed and ignored him for the rest of the class. Harry felt terrible.

The moment the bell rang Harry ran up to Snape. “Professor, please don’t shout at Hermione.” He said, pleading.

Snape stared at him, affronted. “I’ll shout at whoever I want.”

Harry groaned. “Please don’t be upset with her!”

Hermione was coming up behind him, looking nervous. She was never asked to stay after class. “She was doing it to help me!” Harry told him.

“Go to class, Potter, this doesn’t concern you.”

Harry looked at her. “I am sorry.” He left the room.

“Miss Granger.” Snape began when it was just the two of them. “You are not in trouble.”

“Oh.” She said, relieved.

“I know you’ve been assisting Potter throughout this…ordeal and I wanted to tell you that I appreciate the…thought, you’ve been showing him.”

“Thank you, sir.” She nodded.

“However.” Snape hardened his voice. “If you ever steal from me again, you will be very sorry.”

Her eyes widened.

“You are a prefect and you are supposed to be a role model for the other students. Stealing from a professor is not good form.”

She stared at her feet. Her neck heated with shame and embarrassment. She hated getting scolded.

“In the future Miss Granger, notify me about what you need and I will do my best to supply it. Assuming the cause is benign. I’ll not be aiding another Polyjuice adventure.”

She nodded quickly and her face went red.

“You’re a very capable witch.” Snape said. “Mr. Potter is lucky to have a friend in you.”

“Th-thank you, Professor. I had something I wanted to say to you too.”

His brows went up, silently requesting that she continue.

“Thank you for what you’ve been doing for Harry. I don’t mean the hitting him part, but…the detentions I suppose. He was really stressed out this term and he’s been so much better the last few days.”

Snape nodded. “Go on to class.”

Hermione nodded and left the room.

“What’d he say?” Harry asked. Ron was with him and they looked concerned. “Did you get detention?”

“No. He just told me not to steal supplies.”

Both boys relaxed.

“Come on.” Hermione grabbed Ron’s hand. “Let’s not be late.”



Detention that night was a breeze. Harry finished up the last of his work. To his delight, Snape let him redo the Draught of Peace potion that had been destroyed earlier in the term. Harry set up a cauldron out in the classroom and gathered ingredients. He was making it step by step under Snape’s watchful gaze. It didn’t bother Harry at all. Long gone were the days when Snape would loom over his cauldron, causing Harry to miscount the number of stirs needed or do something stupid like add bicorn horn instead of unicorn. Harry added the porcupine quills one at a time, keeping a watchful eye on the potion as it morphed from orange to turquoise.

“Excellent.” Snape said. “Most people add the quills too fast and miss the window where the color changes. You’re doing it perfectly.”

Harry’s whole body warmed at the praise. He turned the heat down so the potion could simmer and got his powdered unicorn horn ready. Snape hummed. “There’s still some large chunks in the powder.” He said. “Grind it up a bit more.”

“Okay.” Harry got the mortar and pestle and mashed until it was all a fine ivory dust. He poured a steady stream of it into the bubbling liquid, watching for the color to change to pink.

“You’re doing well.” Snape laid a hand on the base of his neck and again Harry warmed at the praise. This rare one-on-one attention was wonderful and a part of him that had been neglected his entire life was rolling joyfully in the sensation of having someone take the time to care. He wished Snape was like this in class, though he understood that the Professor couldn’t stand behind him alone and ignore everyone else. Harry was almost disappointed when he finished the potion and turned off the flames.

“Don’t bother bottling it.” Snape said. “I’ll test it straight from the cauldron but I’m sure it’s correct.”

Harry nodded.

“Your mother was good at making potions.” Snape said. “The detail of it suited her.”

“Really? I didn’t know she was good at potions.”

“It runs a bit in your family.” Snape said. “Your….grandfather, I think it was, invented Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion.”

“What?!” Harry blurted.

“I think it was your grandfather. Some relative. I’m sure you could find out for sure. Maybe Black knows.”

Harry was dumbfounded. He vowed to find out more about this.

“Your mother was a good student. Very smart. She could have excelled in any area she devoted herself to.” Snape eyed the clock. “It’s getting late. You should get some sleep. Hogsmeade is tomorrow.”

“Yes!” Harry couldn’t help the wide smile on his face at the thought of riding the new broom. “I’ve been looking forward to it for months. Spintwitches has the new Moonshot broom and it looks so brilliant, and…” Harry stopped himself. Snape didn’t care about the new broom. He wasn’t going to gush about it like a child. “Well….anyway. Thank you for giving Hogsmeade back.” He added.

“You’re welcome. Go.”

“Good night!”

Harry trotted out of the room. Snape suddenly had an idea. It was an absurd idea, but still, it was something he would consider.




Hogsmeade was brilliant. The weather was warming and no one wore coats or hats or scarves. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he was so happy, walking off to the little magical village with his fellow Gryffindors, talking and laughing and excited. His homework was done, Snape wasn’t a dick, Umbridge was gone, and he felt ready to take the O.W.Ls.

“Harry, Ron, don’t forget your Moonshot timeslots.” Angelina reminded them. Ron, now a member of the team, had been assigned a timeslot at Spintwitches.

“As if I would!” Harry waved the small yellow parchment bearing his name and the time he was going to fly.

“We’re all meeting outside Spintwitches at two.”

“Okay, we’ll be there.” Harry said.

They hit a packed Honeydukes first and loaded up on chocolate frogs, fizzing whizzbees, and coconut ice. Hermione got some sherbet balls and Ron grabbed a mixed bag of Every Flavor Beans. They all split the cost of a slab of Honeydukes’ homemade fudge and left the shop with bags of sweets.

“What time is it?” Ron asked through a mouthful of double-chocolate fudge.

“Only twelve.” Harry said, digging his hand into Ron’s bag of beans.

“I want to go to Scrivenshaft’s.” Hermione said, eating some of Harry’s pink coconut ice. “I want some new quills for our O.W.L.s” Her breath fogged in front of her face.

Ron made a face at the mention of the tests and they went into the writing store. Hermione grabbed a few standard quills and a fresh ink pot. She paused at the sight of an assignment organizer, bound beautifully in green dragon hide. It had tabs to keep the user’s subjects separate and pockets built in.

“Oh, I’ve been looking for an organizer this size!” She said, picking it up. “This would fit perfectly in my bag.” She saw the price and hesitated.

“I want to buy it for you.” Harry said.

“What? No, Harry.”

“Please.”

“Why?”

“You’ve helped me a lot this year.” Harry said. “You made me potions and Murtlap and looked up the Draught of Asphodel up in the library and all that.”

“Oh, Harry, you don’t have to buy me anything for doing that.”

“I really want to though.” He laughed. “You stole from Snape for me! I owe you for that alone.” He pulled the planner gently from her hands. “Please. Just this. You buy the quills.”

She sighed and gave him a small smile and he went up to the counter to pay.

“Here you go.” He said, handing her the bag once they’d left the store.

“Thank you, Harry!” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. He flushed slightly and grinned.

“That was good of you.” Ron said quietly when they were outside.

“She deserves it.” Harry said. “She did a lot for me this year.”

They got to Spintwitches early and watched the other people who’d signed up to fly the broom taking their turns. The shop had set up a small arena in a field north of the village and had even supplied quidditch balls. Two Moonshot Silvers were provided so people could fly in pairs and toss the quaffle around. The broom had a black handle and the tail, a handsomely curved set of dark maple, mahogany, and cherry twigs, was attached with a ring of silver. The shape of the thing evoked a comet streaking into the sky. Harry watched, more and more excited, as Angelina took a turn with Katie Bell. He was next and he was going to fly with Fred Weasley.

Angelina landed and passed the broom off to the Spintwitches employee. She sighed, nearly swooning as she walked past Harry. “It’s a dream to fly,” she said.

Harry could barely contain himself as the employee handed him the broom and explained the borders of the arena. Up close, the broom handle was not just black, but it had streaks of a shimmering dark bronze wood mixed in. The employee stepped aside, Harry mounted, kicked off, and all his problems vanished.

The Moonshot was truly incredible. It responded to his movement with barely any effort, almost like it was reading his mind. He’d thought his Firebolt was perfect but compared to this, it was a clunky old block. It was light as air underneath him and if he closed his eyes and let go of the handle, he fancied he wasn’t on a broom at all, but just soaring through the air on his own.

“Amazing!” Fred called.

Harry opened his eyes and caught the quaffle Fred lobbed him. He chucked it back and they played catch for a couple minutes, throwing the ball over their shoulders and doing flips and twists.

“Harry!” Angelina called. “Here’s the snitch!” She opened her palm and Harry watched the little golden ball hover before darting away. He immediately began looking for it and he found it seconds later, hovering above a patch of wildflowers in the grass. He darted down, swearing the broom actually whistled as he shot towards the snitch and snagged it. There was applause and he let it go, watching again and darting after it. The broom was utterly perfect and he lost track of time completely until he heard the shrill whistle from the employee calling them back. He landed and regretfully handed the broom off.

“How was it?” The man asked.

“Incredible.” Harry said, eying the Moonshot lustily. He watched Ron have his turn and they met up with the quidditch team and screeched and gushed about how fantastic the broom was. They went into the Spintwitches shop, high on joy, and a few of them loaded up on supplies. Harry didn’t need anything and instead he stared at the Moonshot Silver displayed in the window.

“I wish I could buy one.” Ron said at his side.

“So do I.” Harry said. “Then I could fly it too! Maybe Spintwitches’ll do more flights like this.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

They stared at the broom, glowing under the strategically placed spotlights above it.

They hit the Three Broomsticks for a late lunch and headed back to the castle. Hermione hugged her organizer to her chest, patiently listening to Ron and Harry and the group go on and on about the broom.

“We have practice on Tuesday!” Angelina reminded them when they parted ways in the Great Hall. A few of them, Hermione included, were going back up to the common room. “We’re gonna kick Slytherin arse!” Angelina shouted. The rest of the team cheered and Harry turned, running right into Draco who was standing there flanked, as usual, by Crabbe and Goyle.

He sneered. “Your team sucks this year. You don’t stand a chance with Ron playing! Gryffindor won’t win against us!”

Harry grit his teeth. They had lost against Slytherin last time.

“We’re going to annihilate Slytherin!” Harry growled.

“Dream on, Potter. My father is buying Moonshot Silvers for the whole Slytherin team. You may as well forfeit now.” He smiled in a sleazy way and sauntered off.

Harry’s stomach dropped as they walked away.

“He’s right.” Ron said.

“No, he’s not. You’ve gotten loads better since you first started playing. And it won’t just be you out there. The whole team will work together to destroy them.”

“Yeah!” Ron said, but he still didn’t seem convinced.

“You’ll do just fine, Ron. Just try not to get nervous.”

“D’you really think Malfoy’s dad got them all new brooms?”

“I hope not. It would sure be nice if someone on the Gryffindor team had one though.”

They went back up to the common room to spend the rest of the day studying.