Harry realized that the girl in the yellow slicker went by at three-forty every day. He started making a point of being at his window at that time. He only ever saw her go in one direction. As unproductive as it was, he spent time wondering if she was walking in a loop or just going back after dark when he rarely looked out. He looked for clues to whether she was a Muggle or a witch and couldn’t decide from what he saw. Weighing the two, he found reasons to wish for one or the other.

He considered sitting out in the garden at that time, but he wasn’t supposed to go out even that far. Frustrated, he started practicing Transfiguration spells using his Sneakascope, which quickly rendered it even more inoperable than it had been before.

Snape said, “I have another meeting this afternoon. Do you think you can manage to behave yourself for a few hours?”

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“You have been very quiet,” Snape observed.

“So have you,” Harry countered.

“True.”

“I thought you preferred that,” Harry reminded him, just to make conversation.

“In general, yes. Do not use that as a reason to be silent.” When Harry shrugged, Snape went on, “I noted this morning that we have only nine days remaining before I need to return for the school year. I will expect you to return with me at that time.” He said this in a tone that left no room for argument. “I will not have much time for you after that.”

Harry took a deep breath. He hadn’t told anyone what had happened and this wasn’t the kind of news he would usually keep from his best friends. When he did tell them, he would have to explain why he had waited so long, and that would mean revealing that hadn’t trusted them. That was assuming Ron hung around long enough to listen to any more after that.

“I’ll go back with you, sir,” Harry said. “I don’t have much desire to be around here for long alone.” As he said this he thought of the girl in the yellow slicker and wondered if that were really true.

As he departed, Snape repeated that Harry should call for help with the Floo at any sign of trouble. “Yes, yes,” Harry said, even if Pettigrew bows to the floor and begs me to kill him. I remember from last time.”

Alone in the house, Harry sat back on his bed with his wonderful lap desk. He dipped his quill and addressed a reply to Hermione’s last letter. Even though he hadn’t said anything in particular to her, because he kept thinking he should explain things in person, she commented about how happy he sounded. Harry smiled as he reread her letter again and thought about what to say in return that didn’t imply anything about his current living arrangement.

Halfway through his long reply, the door knocker clacked downstairs. This pulled Harry out of his composing. He imagined the girl in the yellow slicker standing at the door. He put his things aside, jumped off the bed and peered out the window. A tall man and a younger woman stood outside. Harry easily recognized the nose on the man. Although the slight greying around the temples was different. He rushed downstairs, stopping at the door to the kitchen. “Tidgy? Can you make tea, please?”

Tidgy’s eyes filled to near overflowing instantly. “Of course, Master Harry,” the elf said in near ecstasy.

Shaking his head in disgust, Harry went to the door and swung it open. The occupants of the garden turned to him and shifted from curious to rather surprised. “You must be Shazor Snape,” Harry said to the man, remembering the name from the lineage section of the adoption paperwork. The woman, from closer view, wasn’t as young as he had thought, but wore makeup as though she were.

“And you are…Harry Potter,” the man said as if questioning his own sanity. His voice wasn’t as low as Severus’ and his jaw line was rounder, but otherwise they were identical.

Harry stepped back. “Do you want to come in?”

“Is my son here?” Shazor asked warily, looking past Harry along the corridor behind him.

As casually as possible, Harry replied, “He had a meeting at Hogwarts. He should be back anytime.”

As they stepped into the main hall, Shazor looked up in alarm at the hole blasted through the balcony and the crackled burn marks on the walls. Harry realized only then how they must look. He didn’t even notice them anymore.

“I’m so pleased to meet you,” the woman said earnestly. Harry assumed this must be a second wife. It simply did not seem possible that she was Snape’s mum. “I’m Gretta, by the way.”

They shook hands and Harry led them into the drawing room. He gestured for them to sit and took a seat himself at the marble table. Gretta smiled at him again as though pleased just to be there with him. Shazor sat rigidly, looking critically around the room.

“How are you doing after that nasty fight with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?” Gretta asked him.

“I’m doing fine, ma’am. Thank you.”

“It is such a relief having him gone.” She spoke breathily. “So much trouble just a few bad wizards can create.”

Harry nodded in agreement.

Shazor said stiffly, “I am sure he does not wish to speak of it.”

“I am all right with speaking about it, sir,” Harry said in a friendly manner. Indeed, he had been spared this for quite a while.

“Such a nice young man you are, dear,” Gretta said affectionately as she patted him on the knee.

Tidgy came in with the tea, setting the tray on the table and bowing. “Thank you, Tidgy,” Harry said as he started to pour. Tidgy looked as though he might burst into tears. He bowed very low and rushed from the room. Harry steadfastly ignored the glares of complete shock he was receiving from the guests.

Everyone sipped their tea. After a polite pause Shazor said, “I can’t help wondering why you are here, Mr. Potter.”

Harry looked into his cup and considered which tactic to take. It was Severus’ place to explain things, he supposed, and he was really not certain what this man’s reaction might be. “I was bored of living at my school.” Thinking more explanation was in order, he added, “My headmaster didn’t think anyone would imagine I’d be here.”

“You are hiding?” he asked with an edge.

“Yes,” Harry admitted, “from several wizards who want revenge on me.”

Shazor arranged his robes and sat back down. “Perhaps given who you are, Mr. Potter, you can answer my questions.” At Harry’s shrug, Shazor pulled out a copy of the Prophet from a few days ago. “I am curious if my son is at risk.”

Harry accepted the paper and glanced at the headline: Ministry to seek out every last Death Eater and Associate of Voldemort. He handed it back. “Why would he be?” Harry said. “He—”

Shazor interrupted, “Perhaps you are not the right person to speak with.” He tucked the paper away with stiff motions.

Calmly, Harry said, “I know he used to be a Death Eater, but the Ministry knows that he has been helping Albus Dumbledore for twenty years or so.”

“He has?” Shazor asked. “How do you know that?”

“Because Dumbledore believes it,” Harry said simply. “There are only three Death Eaters left free.”

“Counting my son?”

Harry sat back with his cup. “I don’t count Professor Snape.”

Shazor relaxed marginally and then with a furrowed brow asked, “May I inquire what happened in the main hall?”

“The hole?” Harry thought a moment. “I’m not sure, but I think that was Lucius Malfoy.” He sipped his tea calmly.

“There was a fight here?”

“It mentions it in that article, I think,” Harry explained. “It just doesn’t say where it happened.”

Shazor took a biscuit from the open tin on the tray and examined it rather than eating it. “So you do not think there is any risk of the Ministry arresting my son?”

Harry took up a biscuit as well and munched on it. It was ginger flavored and very good, as if Tidgy were trying much harder. “The night of the attack, we sat around this table with Tonks, Rogan, and Shacklebolt until morning. They are Ministry Aurors,” Harry clarified. “They had lots of opportunity to take him away if they’d wanted. They don’t seem to have any interest in him. Quite the opposite. It was more like a reunion.”

Shazor took that in. Harry was just topping up their tea when the Floo flare sounded from the dining room. With some trepidation Harry held still as footsteps approached. Severus stopped in the doorway and took in the scene with surprise that fast converted to resignation. “You did not inform me that you were coming,” he criticized his father.

Everyone stood up in greeting. “I didn’t think it necessary,” Shazor said with an airy defensiveness.

Severus’ eyes darted from Harry to his father before he pulled over another chair and they all returned to sitting. Harry poured out another cup of tea and passed it over.

“So,” Severus stated levelly, “you have met Mr. Potter.”

“Rather unexpected person to have answer the door. I must say,” Shazor said. Severus raised a brow but didn’t reply. Shazor made a noise of discomfort. “For several reasons,” he hinted.

Harry looked between the two Snapes over the rim of his cup. “Is he referring to my dad?” he asked the younger one.

Severus sat back and crossed his arms challengingly. “I believe so.”

“Oh,” Harry stated casually. At Shazor’s look, Harry went on with a shrug, “I didn’t know him. Obviously.” Harry picked up the teapot and discovered it was empty. He stood up with it and hesitated at the visitors’ horrified expressions. Deciding to ignore them, he continued toward the kitchen.

“You have to forgive him,” Severus sneered lightly, “he was raised as a Muggle…a Muggle house-elf.”

Harry paused in the doorway to roll his eyes.

“I don’t know whether to be more appalled by the strange manners of the Hero of Wizardry or your abominable manners, Severus,” Shazor breathed.

When Harry’s footsteps faded across the Hall, Snape commented, “He needs to learn that he need not cater to the adults around him. It is unfortunately the way he was raised.”

After this formed a long break in the conversation, Severus asked, “May I ask what brought you here?”

Shazor pulled out the Prophet again and handed it over. “Mr. Potter has already attempted to assure me that you are not one of the aforementioned.”

Severus glanced at it and handed it back. “He is correct.”

Shazor sipped his tea for a minute and frowned. “You joined them willingly—do they not know that?” he asked testily.

At that moment Harry stepped in with fresh tea. Shazor looked up sharply at him. Snape commented, “Mr. Potter knows most everything—do not concern yourself about him. If the Ministry ever knew, it has been forgotten, either accidentally or willfully. Should you wish to go over and bring it up, they could very well take an interest, I am sure.”

“I have no intention of doing so, Severus,” he stated.

Harry set the teapot down. “Should I leave?” he asked Severus.

“It does not matter. Sit down.”

Shazor said in a voice that indicated his patience might be shallow, “I would like to speak with you alone. There are other matters to discuss.”

Severus refilled his own tea and his father’s and sat back with it in a forced casual attitude. “Most anything you need to discuss with me can be said in front of Harry. I have adopted him.”

Shazor choked on the sip he had just taken. “You are not truly telling me this.”

Gretta blinked her artificially long eyelashes at Harry and then smiled at him sweetly, clearly charmed by the notion.

“Harry?” Severus prompted.

It took a moment for Harry to realize that he wanted him to pull out the adoption parchment. He went over to the bureau and dug out the rolled, embossed application form. He handed it over to Severus, who handed it to his father.

As he unrolled it, Shazor asked, “Why?” in a disgruntled way.

Severus thought a moment. “I admit the reasons continue to change,” he said vaguely.

Harry paused beside his chair and stared at Severus. “Is that happening to you too, sir?” he asked in quiet surprise.

Shazor let the parchment roll itself up again. “I would have appreciated being consulted before you took such a step,” he said angrily. “As inheritor I would like to know he is worthy, even given who he is.”

Still with forced casualness, Severus said, “Harry, how long did it take you to learn the Columnar spell?”

“The one we did a few days ago?” Harry asked. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“Ten minutes? Five, perhaps?”

Harry shrugged. “Something like that. It wasn’t very hard.”

Shazor blinked at that. Gretta chimed in. She had taken hold of Shazor’s arm apparently to calm him. “One would expect his magic to be very good, considering.”

“Harry, in the bureau—” Severus stood suddenly. “Never mind. I will fetch it.” He pulled another sheet out of a drawer and handed it to his father.

Harry recognized it from the back. “You have a copy of my O.W.L.s?” A little miffed, he added, “I don’t plan to go on in Divination.”

“Clap trap anyway,” Shazor commented.

“Oh, Hon, that isn’t true,” Gretta insisted patting him on the arm.

Harry sighed and held his mouth closed.

“And what do you plan to do after your schooling, Mr. Potter?” Shazor asked, now looking calculating rather than upset.

“Depending on how my N.E.W.T.s go, I plan to apply to the Auror’s program.”

“My stars,” Gretta said, “haven’t you had enough of that?”

“At the moment I feel that way, but in a month I think I won’t,” Harry said.

Shazor handed back the O.W.L. results. “Marks are all well and good. Are you an organized person?”

“I’m getting better,” Harry admitted sheepishly.

“Well mannered? Polite?” Shazor went on. “Never mind, you were polite to the house-elf as I recall.” He shook his head. “At least he isn’t blond,” he said.

Flatly, Harry said, “Severus was debating between adopting me or Draco Malfoy, but I had paper and Malfoy had rock.” He took yet another biscuit and munched on it purely for the distraction.

Gretta patted Shazor’s arm. “He has your sense of humor,” she pointed out. She smiled at Harry with that ultra-affectionate look again. Her gaze shifted past him and she said, “My, what a lovely snake! Is that yours?”

Harry had his wand out before he’d turned around. Snape jumped up with his at ready as well, but Harry made it out the door of the drawing room first. “Nagini,” he whispered as he watched the great snake make her way around the edge of the wall from the far corner of the hall. A wet red trail smeared behind her. Harry stepped across the open space to intercept. Nagini changed course to follow.

“Potter!” Severus berated and aimed his wand.

“NO!” Harry shouted. “She’ll know where he is,” he snarled in a low voice. “He sent her because he couldn’t get past the barriers.”

“What is this?” Shazor asked from the drawing room doorway.

“Voldemort’s pet snake, Nagini,” Severus explained. “Pettigrew undoubtedly—”

The snake veered toward Snape’s voice. “This way,” Harry hissed at her. She turned again. “Where is your master?”

“I have not seen Master in a very long time.”

“Oh. Dear. Merlin,” Shazor exclaimed. “You cannot have adopted a Parselmouth,” he moaned.

“Where is Wormtail?” Harry demanded. Nagini had slowed but she still approached. Blood smeared her jaws.

“Potter,” Severus said threateningly, his wand still aimed at the snake.

“A minute more,” Harry half shouted. “Wormtail cannot speak to you thusly. I speak to you as your master did—I see your mind as your master did. Tell me.”

Nagini hesitated. She lifted her head up and investigated the air with her tongue. “Will you give me a warm place to sleep if I answer? It has been too cold for too long.”

“Light a fire, Severus,” Harry said, pointing at the hearth at the end of the hall. “Put the rug in front of it.”

With a questioning expression Severus stepped cautiously past Nagini’s bulky coil and ignited a fire in the grate. He dragged the rug from the center of the hall to the hearth, keeping a careful eye on the snake as he did so.

“There,” Harry said when it was set.

“Seven gardens south of this one and four east,” she hissed and slithered toward the fire. Harry repeated that aloud. Severus moved to the dining room, steering wide of the invader. Nagini turned herself into a great coil before the hearth and rested her head on herself. Her eyes sank to half closed and her tongue flicked less frequently as she basked in the heat.

Harry, fierce determination burning through him, headed toward the back door. Severus’ voice pulled him up short. “Harry,” he said sternly. Severus faltered as Nagini considered him as he passed by her then sped up to intercept Harry, who decided to ignore him.

Forced to stop because Severus’ much larger frame was in his path, Harry said in a low voice, “Get out of my way.”

“I have contacted the Ministry. The Aurors will attend to this immediately.”

“He’s mine,” Harry said. Pain and rage filled him at the thought of getting ahold of Pettigrew. “I let him go once…” His jaw hardened and he held his wand out as though he thought of using it right then.

“If the boy has valid revenge to take, let him go,” Shazor said.

Severus shot him a warning look before turning back to his charge. “Harry, I cannot stop you because I do not wish to fight you.” He huffed and lowered himself on one knee so Harry was looking down at him. This did capture Harry’s attention, making him lower his wand.

“If you do this thing, you will carve out a piece of yourself that you cannot ever get back. You have come so far, Harry.” Severus paused to swallow. “Far enough that I must implore you to let this go.” He reached out and grasped Harry’s upper arms as Harry reluctantly considered this, his expression varying between pained and determined. Severus went on, “You have your whole life ahead of you. You can choose, right now, to live it whole. But if you choose to take a few moments of gratification in revenge you will forever live it incomplete.”

Harry’s shoulders fell. “He betrayed my mum and dad,” he insisted in a dull voice. “He’s the reason I’ve been alone all this time.” A tear blinked out of his right eye.

“I realize that,” Severus said, sounding increasingly desperate. He stood up and in a smooth motion pulled Harry against himself. Harry rested his forehead against Severus’ chest and sniffled faintly. “I’m trying to do what is best for you, Harry,” Severus said quietly.

“Oh, dear,” Gretta wailed into a kerchief. “So touching.” She dabbed her eyes and nose and sniffed daintily.

Harry took a step back, released at that exact moment. Flushing, Harry breathed in and out, bringing himself under tenuous control. Shazor stared at his son as though he had never seen him before. Gretta sniffed again and gazed soulfully at them.

A knock sounded on the front door as it opened. Tonks rushed in. “Everything all right?” At Severus’ assurances, she went on. “Good tip. Where did you get it?”

“From the snake.” Snape indicated the large coil on the rug.

“Oh my,” Tonks breathed. Nagini raised her head and considered the Auror.

Harry froze. “Tidgy,” he breathed and started toward the rear doorway again this time to check the elf.

Severus grabbed his arm. “Ms. Tonks, please check the kitchen, through there.”

Angrily, Harry said, “What? You are going to protect me from everything?”

“Yes,” Severus said, as if that should be obvious.

Tonks re-emerged thirty seconds later. “I’m afraid your house-elf is dead. I’l have to call the photographer over from the other location.”

“What happened with Pettigrew? You got him, right?” Harry asked. He tried to toss off Severus’ grip and failed. He gave in with a huff and threw his arms down limply.

Tonks paused before them. “He seemed to think you’d be coming, Harry. Once he realized it was just us…he offed himself. Seemed pretty distraught that you hadn’t come.”

Harry jerked his arm again and this time Severus released it.

“You been hanging on to him all this time?” Tonks asked Severus in amusement.

“Trying.”

Tonks chuckled lightly and tapped Harry on the chin with her fist. “Good to know someone is looking out for you, Harry, even at the cost of peeving you off royally.” She leaned in close to his ear and whispered only for him, “Looks like you got yourself a real dad.” She stepped back with a devilish grin and looked over at Nagini, who appeared to have gone back to sleep. “What we are going to do with that, I don’t know.”

“She isn’t evil,” Harry said tiredly. “She’s just a snake.”

Tonks looked doubtful, then shrugged. “Maybe the zoo then. Unless you want her?”

“No!” Harry and Severus said together. Harry went on. “Give her a warm quiet place to sleep and she might be willing to answer any outstanding questions.”

“Gee, where would we find a Parselmouth to talk to her? Hmmm…”

Harry rolled his eyes.

When Tonks had departed, Shazor said bleakly as he shook his head, “A Parselmouth.” Even Gretta appeared wholly unsympathetic about that.

Harry shrugged at Snape helplessly. “I wasn’t born this way,” he insisted.

“You weren’t?” Severus asked in surprise.

“Dumbledore said I must have acquired Parseltongue along with this scar.”

“Did you? That is reassuring, Harry.”

“It is? Why?” Harry asked in disbelief. “You sound like Greer,” he added accusingly.

That night Harry tossed fitfully as visions of Pettigrew cornered and angry kept invading his thoughts, interspersed with Tidgy cornered by Nagini. When the bed tilted, he jerked in surprise.

“Difficulty sleeping?” Snape’s voice came from the darkness. The bedside lamp flared brighter, casting a halo of orange light around them. “Sit up.”

With a frown Harry obeyed. Snape pressed a cup into his hand. “I don’t want to need this all of the time,” Harry said.

“Firstly, it is a very mild potion. Secondly, I will not let that happen. You have had a stressful day. You need to sleep soundly to recover or this will only repeat itself tomorrow night.”

Harry fingered the cup in indecision. “It’s too sad about Tidgy.” 

“His magic wasn’t very strong. But I do regret his absence, and my inability to keep him safe.”

“What could you have done?”

“I don’t know, even now. One usually expects the house-elf to look after himself. Their magic is generally strong enough for that. I will do a better job protecting you if that is your concern.”

“It’s not.” And to prove that, Harry drank down the potion and handed it back. “Sorry about upsetting your father.”

Snape scoffed easily. “You have not seen him upset. And you are hardly to blame whether you naturally are a Parselmouth or acquired it.”

“He seems pretty hard to please,” Harry said.

“And I am not?” Snape asked as though insulted.

Harry huffed in humor at his tone. “I don’t know—maybe you are.” He rubbed his forehead and put his hands over his eyes. “I think the potion is working.” He lowered himself back down to his pillow and curled up on his side, welcoming the maw of sleep closing around him.

“Good night,” Snape said.

Harry merely murmured incoherently in response.

The next morning, Harry woke with the sun slicing between the curtains into his eyes. He padded downstairs in his dressing gown and slippers. The house was completely silent, reminding him with a twinge that Tidgy was gone. He stepped down the half flight of rough-hewn steps to the kitchen. Whatever blood there had been was completely cleaned up. With a sad sigh, Harry took out the pans and started breakfast, ducking and leaning over a lot in a room designed for an elf.

“Potter,” Snape said sharply. “What are you doing?”

Harry screwed the coffee pot together tightly and placed it on grate in the space made for it. “I assume that is a facetious question, sir,” he said as he wrapped the hot toast in a towel. “I really don’t mind and it seemed like the only way to get breakfast.”

Snape took the towel and placed it on the tray. “I suppose you are correct on that last count.” When the coffee boiled, he took that as well and carried it upstairs. In the dining room, he said, “We shall have to find another before the school year begins. It will not be easy on such short notice.”

Harry had a thought. “Do you mind if I look for one?”

Snape gave him a derisive look. “With your extensive house-elf connections?”

“Yes.”

Snape gestured with his hand that he was welcome to it. 

After breakfast, Harry owled Dobby and that afternoon the doorbell chimed. 

“Who is that, I wonder?” Snape muttered.

Harry jumped up. “I think it is the first house-elf applicant,” Harry said brightly, even more amused by Snape’s surprise. At the entry he waved in Dobby and a much dolled up Winky.

“See. Master Harry,” Dobby said to her reassuringly.

“I am wanting no pay,” she insisted.

“I figured that,” Harry said. As they entered the hall, Snape stepped over and looked over the two elves.

“Professor,” Dobby squeaked, bowing. Winky did the same, not looking nearly as hopeful.

“Potter, in here a moment,” Snape said. After he closed the drawing room door behind him, he said, “Crouch’s old house-elf?” Harry nodded. “Probably the least likely choice I would have considered. Isn’t she in the employ of Hogwarts?”

“They are willing to let her go. I checked that already.”

“You do work fast, Mr. Potter.”

“Hey, if you are going to yell at me every morning at breakf—”

“I did not yell at you.”

“Scold then,” Harry interjected. “Dobby vouches for her not being anything like him. She didn’t do well after Crouch gave her clothes but he thinks she just needs to be bound to a household again.”

“Most all of them do need to be. Ms. Granger’s efforts notwithstanding, house-elves are not natural. They have been distorted, like an exotic breed of dog, to serve wizard needs. Are you set on this elf?”

“No, she is just the first one I thought of when you said they were hard to find.”

When they stepped back into the hall, Dobby immediately ceased whispering to Winky and gave them a pleased look. Snape stepped over to them. “Tell me about your former master, Winky,” he said.

She looked a little fearful and began turning her bright white tea-towel around in her hands. Quietly, she said, “He was maybe not nice wizard, but I loyal to him. I not saying anything.”

“Look at me, Winky,” Snape said in a tone not to be disobeyed. Harry took an unconscious step backward and bit his lip. After a moment Snape said, “You will do.”

Winky looked very relieved and pathetically grateful while Dobby grinned toothily at Harry. “Dobby is going in that case,” Dobby said, “Will be seeing Master Harry soon, he is thinking, at Hogwarts.” At Harry’s nod of agreement, he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

“He is an odd one,” Snape commented. He turned his attention back to Winky. “You are prepared to be bound?” The elf nodded emphatically, keeping her eyes averted downward.

Harry stood to the side and watched, arms wrapped around himself. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this.

Snape pulled his wand out of his pocket and held it out over Winky’s head. As she started to shift to her knees, he said, “Stand. I think Potter would prefer it.” His gaze slid over to Harry for an instant. Winky looked alarmed as she stood straight again. 

Snape incanted something long and Latin. A yellow glow formed around Winky’s small frame as he finished. She reached out her long hands as though a child looking for a sweet. Snape reached his hand out, palm down. Winky grasped it and kissed the back of it. At that moment, the glow flashed away.

“Potter?” Snape said, gesturing that he should take his place.

“I can’t do that,” Harry said.

“It is simpler if you do. You inherit her along with the house.” When Harry shook his head again, clearly uncomfortable, Snape said, “As you wish.” To Winky, he said, “You will give Master Harry the same obedience as myself.”

“Yes, Master,” she said stridently.

“There are no limits to your run of the house. Go.” He dismissed her.

She stepped across the Great Hall and down to the kitchen, peering in each room she passed.

Harry went up to his room. He badly needed a distraction after that, so he reread the last few letters from each of his friends. Then he took out his new Map and worked on adding color to it. Eventually his stomach distracted him. He hadn’t really had a good meal that day since at lunch he hadn’t wanted to incur Snape’s annoyance again and only had an apple from the fruit basket.

He wandered downstairs to the dining room. Snape was there, reading the post. Harry took a seat across from him, then jumped when dinner appeared on the table in a sparkle of magic, Hogwarts’ style. Harry, mouth watering, pulled over a plate with a pile of thin sliced roast beef surrounded by small potatoes. A bowl of fruit salad in some kind of creamy dressing also had appeared.

After waiting for Snape to serve himself, Harry started eating. The meat was really good. Harry ate what he had taken and took more.

“I will admit,” Snape said, “that you did very well choosing a house-elf.”

“It is pretty good,” Harry agreed, then felt a little guilty about Tidgy until Winky’s piled pudding distracted him from it.