Most of an hour passed before everyone in the common room quieted down after their Animagus romp. Harry accepted all of the congratulations and expressions of glee at his animal form. The younger house students began scheming how to become Animagi to find the next Griffin among them, since they believed that one of them must be and it would be rather nice to have an ongoing mascot for the house. Harry shook his head in amusement as he half-listened to this. He had pulled out his unfinished assignments and was looking them over with a bit of dread. He was rather exhausted, and it was late.

As Harry stared with wavering focus at the parchment before him, the room gradually cleared out. Ron and Neville remained behind although they seemed to be revising rather than working on assignments. Harry was a little touched that they were giving up this much sleep for him. He reviewed his notes and sipped the hot cocoa Ron had fetched from the castle kitchen. Maybe if he just rested his eyes for a few minutes, he thought, then he might be refreshed enough to continue.

“Is he asleep?” Neville asked. Harry’s head rested on his crooked arm, which rested in turn on the worn arm of the overstuffed couch. He wasn’t moving much at all.

Ron leaned over to take a closer look. Quietly, he said, “Looks like it.” With care Ron pulled the parchment out of Harry’s loose fingers. “What’s he working on?” he muttered. “Oh, Potions essay.” He held it out to Neville. “Can you finish it for him? I know a Skiving Note charm that will make your writing look like his.”

Neville accepted the long parchment with reluctance. “I don’t know…”

“You do all right in Potions,” Ron insisted.

“I don’t get marked as crazy hard as he does.” Neville read the half essay in silence, then said, “Harry takes these assignments as a personal battle. I don’t know if he’d even want me to finish it for him, but I will if you really think I should.”

“Maybe not then,” said Ron, taking the long curling sheet back again. “What should we do with him? I can’t stand to wake him—he’s really out.”

“I need to get to sleep as well,” Neville admitted, glancing at his watch while rubbing one eye. “Think I’ll skip running in the morning at this point.”

“Well, there’s an upside to late-night revising,” Ron quipped. He stacked his books together and hefted them under his arm before standing up and considering Harry.

“Should we just leave him?” Neville asked casually, sounding like he was thinking ahead to being asleep himself.

Ron sighed and set his books back on the low table. “You know, he’s the only student in this whole bloody school whose dad is also here.” He pulled out his wand and concentrated a bit before casting a silver bird through the floor. Hefting his books again quickly, he muttered tiredly, “Let Snape finish his Potions essay for him—I’m going to bed.”

Neville hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, but then followed when Ron held the door open for him.

Harry felt something bump the fabric of his robe at the shoulder. This contrasted strangely with the dream he was having about playing Quidditch in the middle of a blizzard and trying in vain to catch the Snitch while wearing oversized, hand knitted, scarlet mittens.

“Harry,” a familiar voice prompted him.

Sitting up sent painful kinks through Harry’s neck, so he stretched his head in the other direction and tiredly considered his parent. “I must have fallen asleep,” he murmured, gazing bleary-eyed at the disarrayed and empty common room.

“Apparently,” Snape said and held out a stone cup. “Drink this.”

Inside the cup thick yellow and white liquids swirled in globs, but didn’t mix. Harry sipped it and discovered it didn’t taste anything like lemon as expected, but like musty curtains. His head cleared startlingly, so he drank the rest down while holding his nose. “What was that?” he asked as he handed the cup back.

Snape set the empty cup on the table and sat in the chair Ron had been studying in. “Farnsworth’s Faffery, also called Slumber in a Jar. Feeling better?”

Harry felt like he had had a full night’s sleep. “Much,” he replied in amazement, expecting to feel the euphoric effect wearing off the next moment. His wakefulness held firm, however. “Is that potion restricted?” he asked, wishing he had known about it a long time ago.

Snape sat back, relaxed. “No. Nor is it difficult to brew. However, the key ingredient is hard to obtain.”

“Which is?”

“Mummy powder.”

Harry frowned at that disturbing thought. “Powdered mummy?”

“Powder of a unique fungus that grows exclusively on undisturbed Egyptian mummies,” Snape explained in a pedantic tone. Harry forcefully ignored his now churning stomach and turned to his parchments which someone had laid out on the table before him. Snape said, “Have enough energy to finish that now?”

“Yes.” Harry picked up his quill and set to work. Snape leaned back farther and gazed at his steepled fingers before him. He looked to be settling in until Harry was finished.

Finally, after having to look up the Latin for wormwood, Harry wrote out the last line and held the parchment out. Snape, who had until then been sitting in quiet contemplation, accepted it and started reading. Minutes later, he handed it back. “Well done,” he said.

Harry rolled it up and put it in his bag. It was only three and he was rather wide-awake. His alternative Potions texts, with the marked pages, sat in a neat row in the bottom of his book bag. He pulled them out.

Snape's eyes followed him doing this. “All set, Harry?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you,” Harry said sincerely.

Snape hefted his tall frame out of the sagging chair and shook his robes straight. “I shall see you later in the morning then,” he said before departing.

Harry again thanked him and leaned back with Potent Potions and Porridges.

Morning light came through the room slowly enough that Harry did not notice it until the glare on the lamp base across from him made his eyes water. Warm orange light also glinted on the uneven glass in the windows on the far side of the room. Harry warmed Ron’s unfinished cocoa and continued reading.

An hour later a voice disturbed his journey through useful moor plants. “You are still awake?” Penelope asked in concern.

Harry shrugged. “You’re up early.”

“I sometimes wake and cannot return to sleep,” she said, adjusting her dressing gown.

To Harry’s ear it sounded as though she did not like admitting that. He moved his books out of the way so she could sit on the couch. He looked into the stained mugs before him. “Sorry, I finished all the cocoa.”

She grinned. “Dat is all right,” she insisted. “Aren’t you going to be too tired today?”

“I think I’ll be all right,” he said easily. She put down her toiletry kit, picked up one of the texts he had already finished, and flipped it open. He watched her do this, his eyes taking in her un-made-up, smooth skin and long lashes. A sleepy scent clung to her, reminding him of the night he spent with Tonks. Without conscious thought, he had leaned closer to her, something he realized only when she turned to him in question. He was busy sorting through the impulses coursing within him and really would not have kissed her, but it didn’t matter, because she kissed him.

Harry leaned into her harder and put his arms around her almost desperately. He felt a bit like he had not eaten in a week, as he returned a rather devouring kiss. After a long minute she turned aside out of reach and said, “Maybe not in the common room…”

Harry froze, then quickly looked around the empty room. “Yeah, good point,” he agreed, swallowing hard. It was much harder to let go of her and sit back than it should have been.

At breakfast Harry found his face heating up a lot, as in, every time he glanced at Penelope. She in turn spent a lot of time staring at her plate with a small grin pressed into her lips. Harry forced himself to listen in to Hermione’s and Ginny’s conversation about test-taking strategies. The strange antsy excitement in his stomach lingered through the meal though, even when he started to worry about his N.E.W.T.s at the same time.

Harry handed in his Potions assignment with confidence, ignoring Greer’s dark look as she accepted it. Malfoy turned in his right behind him. “Get help on that?” Draco asked in a falsely friendly tone.

“Professor always marks them like I do, so it wouldn’t matter if I did,” stated Harry even though the teacher in question was just feet away. Her eyes narrowed. Adopting an innocent tone, Harry asked, “Did you get Potion tutoring from Bellatrix while you had the chance?”

The other nearby students turned their way. Hermione, Frina, and Penelope came in at that moment, gossiping happily. Flatly, Draco said, “She isn’t any good at Potions. Curses, though…” The last had a threatening ring to it.

“I could use some more practice before the N.E.W.T.s,” Harry returned. “Let me know when you want to try them out.”

“You should be so lucky to get a warning,” said Draco in a very quiet voice.

Harry finally got a chance to pull Penelope aside on Sunday evening. They had all been studying in the Great Hall early in the evening but one by one the rest of them had drifted away, Ginny last, saying she had to meet another study group for a project. Free now to look across the table, Harry did so for nearly a minute, wishing there was no one else in the Hall. Thinking fiercely, he wondered where they could go to be alone that wasn’t a broom cupboard.

She noticed his attention and looked up with that shy smile. Harry said, just as it popped into his head, “Want to go for a walk in the Rose Garden?”

“Right now?”

“Yep.”

She glanced down at her textbook and considered it before shutting it and saying, “Certainly.”

Harry grinned and they both quickly packed up their things and left. They dropped their bags just on the edge of the bailey and walked to the rose archway before the fountain. Harry watched for anyone else who might be around. With relief he decided that the garden was empty and took Penelope’s warm hand. Maybe it was the torch light, but her eyes looked a little sadder than he expected to find them when she glanced up at him.

They walked slowly around the roughly circular path. There was a stone alcove with a bench on the far side, Harry knew, so he kept a lookout for it. “Here,” he said, when he found it. He pulled out his wand and tapped one of the red roses on the corner of the path to turn it yellow, a signal that the area was occupied.

“You’ve been here many times, clearly,” Penelope said.

“No,” he insisted. “Everyone knows about the rose. Really.” He sat down and brushed off her half of the bench. “Really, I’ve never been here with anyone,” he said, worried she would not believe him.

She grinned at him. “I know that,” she admitted. “Ginny said you had a girlfriend Cho, who finished school already, but that is all she knows about.”

Harry scratched his brow. “It is really hard for us when you girls talk so much.”

“I thought she would know.”

“Ah,” Harry said, feeling the mood slipping away into one of vague annoyance. His eyes had adjusted to the dim moonlight and he could see her grinning mischievously. Clusters of white roses glowed blue behind her.

After a pause she observed, “You never behave as I expect.”

“No?” Harry returned, feeling at a loss for conversation and not wanting it to be about him.

“You are shy vit girls. Well, except Hermione. I would not have expected dat.”

“Really?” Harry asked, just to say something. A haloed wisp of cloud was moving over the moon making it appear that the waning disk was sailing through the sky.

“And you are trying to goad Malfoy into a fight.”

Harry thought about that one. “Hm,” he muttered. “Maybe.” Imagining a good duel with Malfoy did fill him with an eager raw anticipation. He pondered that pleasant thought as they sat in silence. Penelope sat back and sighed, seeming relaxed. It was nice just to get away from everyone and be in the quiet, Harry had to admit, for a little while anyway.

When her hand took hold of his, he jumped lightly he was so wrapped up in other, darker thoughts. She leaned closer, making him realize he needed to put his arm around her. Dark thoughts of dueling flittered away when she turned inward for a kiss.

It was getting on to real night. Although Harry was reluctant to head back inside. It must be past curfew, he considered, then tossed that thought away. They couldn’t give him detention for longer than the two weeks remaining in the school year. Or, maybe Snape could, but Harry suspected he wouldn’t. Harry dabbed his lips, which were raw from being wet. Penelope snuggled against him with a sigh, also seeming reluctant to move.

“So you will come visit me in Bern?” she asked, breaking the lengthy silence.

Harry lifted his chin and felt anxious as he realized, somehow for the first time, that shortly she would be returning to somewhere much farther away than England. “I’d like to. When I know my testing schedule. I’ve never been out of the country.”

“No?” she asked in surprise. “You will like Switzerland—the mountains are beautiful.”

Too bad it wasn’t somewhere near Scotland, he thought wryly. What he said was, “We should head in. We may need a Disillusionment Charm to get past Filch. He likes to hang around the doors catching people coming in late.” They need not have worried, since Filch was rather occupied elsewhere.

They didn’t meet anyone until the Grand Staircase, although in the corridor there was a strange set of green footprints on the floor going the other way. The Grand Staircase had many sloppy footprints on it in blue, yellow, and green. Students were gathered in the Entrance Hall in clusters talking furiously. Justin, face red, stomped down the staircase, trailing yellow. At the bottom of the stairs he bent to look at the perfectly ordinary bottoms of his shoes and huffed in frustration. He seemed to be in Head Boy mode.

“Has anyone seen the headmistress?” he asked a group of Fifth Years. They shook their heads. Justin gave the Hall an annoyed once-over and caught sight of Harry. “Going out with a bang, eh, Potter?”

“What?” Harry returned, thoroughly confused.

Justin, sounding more fed up than Harry thought possible, said, “You will notice that no Gryffindors are trailing red.”

It was true that Harry did not see any red footprints. “What’s going on?” he asked. When Justin scoffed obnoxiously and walked away, Harry muttered, “Uh oh.”

Malfoy strode passed, coming to a sharp halt when he spotted Harry. “Think you’re funny don’t you, Potter?” He shoved Harry, leaving a green hand-print on Harry’s robe.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry insisted, examining the stuff on his front. It looked like glowing paint, but it didn’t smear or look likely to come off.

He headed down to the Great Hall with Penelope following, looking both bemused and amused. Behind him, he could hear Justin bemoan, “Cor! It’s on your hands now too?”

Harry spotted Ginny, the Creevey brothers, and Frina sitting and reading, apparently unaffected by goings on. “Where’s Ron and Hermione?” Harry asked. “What’s happening?”

Ginny gave a great shrug. “Don’ know,” she breathed, clearly acting. Beside her the Creevey brothers looked innocent, maybe too much so, and across from them Frina flashed him a grin like a cat.

“Ron and Hermione?” Harry prompted again.

“The library,” Ginny answered as though it were perfectly normal for them to be there, which it actually had not been lately.

McGonagall strode in just then and the hall quieted. She stepped over to Harry, looking very stern. Her eyes flickered down to the green hand-print on his chest as she said, “A word, Mr. Potter.”

Harry moved to follow her quick departure, glancing back in time to see Ginny looking worried. He shot her an annoyed look in return.

In the Entrance Hall they swept by Snape who stood grimly and actually growled lightly at Harry as he followed alongside. He was not trailing green, Harry was explicitly relieved to see.

There were many, many trails everywhere along the corridors and the door handles and moulding were spotted with finger-shaped blobs. Near a painting of a bog, were two small fingerprints that caused Harry to wonder if there were a hidden passage or flush cabinet there that he didn’t know about. He would have to come back later and check.

In the headmistress’ office he was ordered to sit, which he did. Harry was beginning to feel a little bothered that they automatically assumed this was his doing, when he knew absolutely nothing. He was also feeling a little miffed at his friends because the hadn’t said anything, assuming this prank was Ron and Hermione’s, but at the moment it was his only defense so he squashed his annoyance.

“Professor,” Harry said evenly, normally, but this was a mistake, as her gaze grew disappointed.

“A mere two weeks, Mr. Potter. That is all we have left.” Professor McGonagall steepled her fingers with fidgety movements as she leaned forward in her chair.

Snape stood beside the desk, arms crossed, brow low, eyes flinty. Harry would have considered him verging on dangerously angry in a previous time.

McGonagall went on, “Clearly Severus was correct—we were much too lenient on you during earlier incidents and you’ve taken liberties as a result, even with such short a time with in which to do it.”

She pulled out a file from a pile beside her, making Harry’s palms sweat a little. He thought of denying knowing anything, but he had a sense that his delaying the two of them might help his friends cover their tracks, so he sat silent. The green paint substance on his robes had not faded, and he had a panicky feeling it might be permanent, which even he thought would be rather bad.

“Terribly childish of you all,” McGonagall commented, but not so much to Harry as to the room. “Couldn’t win a cup so you take it out on everyone else.”

Harry bit his lip, thinking that she was digging herself a bit of a hole that might be useful later.

She went on, “I am reminded at the end of every year how maturity and age do not go hand-in-hand. Even for those who should have learned some sense of responsibility by now. Especially you,” McGonagall added pointedly.

Flatly, letting a little anger show, he asked, “Why do you assume that I had anything to do with this?”

He knew he had caught her unawares, because she straightened suddenly in her chair and gazed at him uncertainly.

She glanced at Snape in question before asking outright, “Were you involved with this, Mr. Potter?”

“No,” he replied stiffly, anger churned in him looking for an outlet. “And I don’t know who did it. Nor do I know what charm or compound this is.” He poked at his robes again. When he looked up at his parent, he had his thoughts un-Occluded. Snape, who had a look of consternation before, dropped his arms in surprise.

“He does not know,” Snape said.

“So where have you been these last two hours, Mr. Potter?” McGonagall asked, sounding unconvinced.

Harry re-closed his mind and felt himself flush warmly. “Not any of your concern, really, Professor,” he said. “I wasn’t planning any pranks at the time.”

“It is mine, though,” Snape pointed out.

Harry looked away from them both, annoyed at this position he had been forced into. Jaw tight, he said, “I was in the Rose Garden with someone.” He was beginning to wish he had been part of the prank, because he was starting to feel maybe the teachers deserved it. He began hoping his friends were planning another, in fact. Standing up, Harry said, “May I go now, Professor?”

“No, Harry, sit down,” McGonagall said more gently.

Harry did so, slowly. His anger solidified at her new conciliatory mode.

She said, “I apologize for falsely accusing you. But you are the de facto leader of your house and therefore highly likely to at least be aware of goings on.”

Realizing a response was expected, Harry said, “Yes, ma’am,” sounding a bit like Draco to his own ears.

She frowned, eyes a little sad. “The disruption this is going to cause for the last days of classes and examinations is enormous and we are a little testy as a result. If it doesn’t significantly impact your fellow students’ marks I would be quite surprised. And it will be through no fault of their own.” She evaluated his closed expression. “Well, I don’t suppose there isn’t anything I can say beyond that I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Haven’t seen that temper of yours in rather a long while, though I see it just below the surface now.” She frowned at Snape apologetically as well. “Go on then, Harry. Tell your friends that if I can come up with any proof, they will be in serious, serious trouble.”

Harry stood up with a quick motion, gave his parent a dark glance and departed. On the staircase down, he felt his way around how he wished for more loyalty from both of them, but especially Snape. Sirius would have defended Harry whether he knew Harry had been involved or not.

By the time he reached the tower, Harry’s anger had shifted again, so that when he entered the common room and found his friends whispering and giggling, he gave them an annoyed frown.

Hermione came over to him. “Did you get blamed?” she asked.

“Oh, I would say so,” Harry snapped at her. His friends’ faces fell worried from gleeful. “Couldn’t tell me about it beforehand?” he asked.

“We didn’t want you to get into trouble,” Hermione explained.

Harry gave her a derisive laugh. “That worked.”

“It is pretty funny though,” Ron said with a broad grin. “The Slytherins are the only ones who got the hands because of how their door works.” He laughed. “We put the Invisible Stoolie Goo on each house’s entrance. The Slytherins have to push their door open.”

Harry glanced around at the other grinning Gryffindors in the room. Clearly everyone was in the know. “I do have a message from McGonagall. She says that if she can prove it, you will be in serious, serious trouble.”

“Only two weeks’ worth,” Seamus retorted, while beside him, Neville nodded.

“I wouldn’t underestimate her. Or the deputy headmaster,” Harry added with meaning.

Ron said, “She can’t prove it unless she raids the experimental brewing room at Fred and George’s place. They were more than happy to make the Goo in colors for us, and they promise not to sell it for at least a year.”

Harry, feeling inordinately tired, waved them off and went up to the dormitory. Kali had only been out once that day and she reached through the cage bars with sad frantic gestures when he entered. He let her out and she scampered and flapped madly around the fortunately empty room. Finally exhausting herself, she dropped onto the bed, fanning her wings slowly and breathing fast.

“I know how you feel,” Harry said, lying back to stare at the inside of his drapes. He eventually roused himself to get into his pyjamas and set the alarm for early, since he was feeling wound up and looked forward to a run the next morning.

Bright and early, it was just him and Neville for the run.

“Still mad?” Neville asked when they were out of earshot of the castle.

“I don’t know,” Harry replied. He had brought Kali along this morning, thinking she might like more flying, and she flitted along beside them over the lake, swooping and diving to catch dragonflies in her mouth or feet depending on the size of insect.

“That’s an odd pet, Harry,” Neville commented when they rounded the path by the train station.

“Neville, when I first met you, you were looking for a lost toad.”

“True. My gran remembered that as the best pet, which it was in her day, and insisted that was what my uncle buy me.”

They ran in silence until the last leg when they were approaching the castle again.

Harry, feeling the need to talk, said breathlessly because of their fast pace, “I think I expected more loyalty from Severus, at least the benefit of the doubt.”

“Really?” Neville said immediately, sounding as though that would have been an odd thing to expect.

Harry frowned, feeling not well understood and as though he should drop the topic.

A minute later Neville said, “I would think he’d have a lot of loyalty to Hogwarts, since it protected him for so long.”

Harry had not thought of that.

Neville went on, “It was just a prank, and the paint will fade in two weeks. It was timed to the school year by the Weasley twins.”

“Does every Gryffindor know about this?” Harry asked in annoyance as they slowed on the lawn and finally stopped.

Neville swung his arms side to side before bending to stretch his legs. “Pretty much by now.” He looked up. “Someone wants to talk to you, I think.”

Harry turned to the castle steps and found Snape standing there, arms crossed, looking as though he had been waiting for a while. “Gee,” he muttered, “am I in trouble for morning runs now too?”

“Harry,” Neville said sharply.

Harry turned back to his roommate in surprise.

Neville scratched his head and gave him a wry smile. “No wonder you were running so fast, you must still be seriously miffed. Go on, then.”

Drenched in sweat and relishing the cool breeze off the lawn, Harry walked up to the steps alone.

When Harry arrived, Snape said, “A little talk, I think.”

Harry would have snapped back at him, could feel his jaw wanting to move, but Neville’s correction inspired him to hold himself in check. They had run fast, he realized by the clock in the still empty Entrance Hall.

Snape strode through his office to his suite and indicated the couch. Harry took a seat and dried his face on the front of his t-shirt. Snape sat down in a chair across from him and poured them both a cup of tea from a pot steeping on the low table.

After a long pause he prompted, “Something you need to say?”

Harry set the teacup down without drinking any. His palms were sweating and he had to rub them on his exercise shorts repeatedly to dry them.

“I thought you’d be more loyal to me,” he said, feeling stung just saying it.

Harry didn’t think Snape could have reacted more had Harry actually struck him. With a jerk Snape turned his head away, then stared at the ceiling and rubbed his hand through his hair.

“It is rarely so simple as that.”

“Not to me it isn’t.” Harry considered adding that Sirius would not have assumed he was guilty, and even if he knew he were guilty, would have stood by him anyway. But Harry sensed there was a bridge there that, once crossed and burned, would be difficult to reconnect. He left it alone.

“The school is a mess,” Snape said.

“The school is still standing,” Harry pointed out between sips of the good tea. The scent reminded him of too many things. He wondered idly about Candide, but decided it was not the right time to ask. “I’d assume the pranksters are smart enough not to do permanent damage.”

“We are hoping that is so, since we have not been able to obliterate it or even render it invisible. It implies that other outside parties are involved.”

Harry just shrugged, having no interest in being generous right now.

“This is the kind of trouble I would expect from my own house, especially given that Mr. Nott has returned and he and Mr. Malfoy have resumed their previous close confidence. I had been keeping an eye on them with little thought to potentially more troublesome Gryffindors.” Snape, while running his knuckles over his chin, conceded, “I perhaps should have taken your side or at the least a neutral position, but I had no imagining that such an elaborate scheme could have occurred without at least your tacit agreement. I am surprised at your friends.”

So am I, Harry thought. He finished his tea and pushed his cup away, eyes fixed on low table.

“Well, it did,” Harry said and wondered idly if his friends had not told him because they had feared that he might let something slip to Snape. He shook his head in frustration at being caught in the middle like this where there were no real allies.

Quietly, Snape said, “This school is important to me, Harry.”

Thinking back to Neville’s observation, Harry said, “I know.” It was, after all, important to Harry as well. After a pause he said, “Something else you wanted?”

“I was hoping…that we could reach some kind of understanding,” Snape reluctantly stated, as if those words were foreign and required dredging up from somewhere.

“We have,” Harry said. “It goes something like: my friends don’t trust me because of you, and you don’t trust me either, and the school is of primary importance…”

“Harry,” Snape said to cut him off during his hesitation. “This is best discussed when the school year is over. I don’t think it can be productively resolved until then.”

“Can I go to Switzerland?” Harry tossed out, interrupting.

Snape blinked as he took that in. “If you wish. I presume you will keep your testing schedule in mind when making plans.”

“Yep.”

Snape gestured that it was up to Harry. He looked tired, Harry realized, then wondered how much sleep he had managed to get last night.

Feeling like he should help a little, Harry said, “If I tell you something, will you not tell McGonagall where you learned it?”

Snape nodded, actually looking regretful.

Harry said, “The paint will go away on its own when the school year is over.”

Snape raised a brow and tilted his head in acknowledgment. Harry stood and went to the door but Snape’s voice made him pause with his hand on the latch. “Do try to stay out of trouble.”

Harry looked back. “Does it earn me anything?”

“You are thinking like a Slytherin,” Snape said.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Harry said from the doorway.

“For you I think it is.”

During the next day, the other students were peeved enough with Gryffindor House that Harry felt things were pretty even all around. The school floors were ubiquitously colorful, at least in the centers of the corridors and green hand-prints were on nearly every desk, door, handrail, and the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. Some Slytherins had taken to leaving nasty messages, drawn with just a plain fingertip, on walls and tables. Ironically enough, there was no easy way to remove them or cover them over, though one message on the wall about someone’s choice of boyfriend had yellow footprints across it by the next class break. Harry wore an older robe, one without a big green hand-print on it, though it was pinching around the shoulders.

As they waited for Snape to arrive for Defense, Harry listened to Hermione whisper to Ron something about maybe it might have been better to have set the cancellation on the Stoolie Goo to something shorter.

“Too late,” was Ron’s reply.

Hermione’s face brightened, “Know what…” she began in an excited whisper, just as Snape entered. She swallowed whatever she was going to say and took up her quill.

“Well,” Snape said, as he spun on his heel on the platform at the front. His patience sounded very short. “I was thinking of another review session today since your examinations are so close, BUT,” he added, pacing a bit. “I think, perhaps a workshop on curse neutralization would be more interesting.” Harry’s friends turned to him in question, requiring that he shrug at them, since he did not know where this was leading. Snape went on. “Let’s see, the desks perhaps. Everyone up, push all but…” He appeared to count. “You three,” he said, pointing at the Durmstrang girls near Harry, “consider yourselves Gryffindor?”

Frina and Penelope nodded after a second’s hesitation. Darsha shook her head.

“Smart girl,” Snape said. “Over there.” He pointed at the wall to the left. “Everyone except the Gryffindors, over on that side.”

“Uh oh,” Neville muttered.

Everyone leapt up eagerly, their new trails on the floor barely noticeable additions. Malfoy had a rather pleased grin on his face.

Snape said, “The rest of you, pull eight desks to the side.” He pointed off to the right. They all obeyed in worrisome silence. “Now, off with you.” He pointed at Harry and his friends. “For twenty minutes, no more,” he commanded them.

Harry and his friends looked at each other before collecting up their books and shuffling out with glances back at their classmates. When the classroom door thudded closed behind them, Seamus said, “You mentioned something about underestimating the deputy headmaster?”

“Twenty minutes,” Hermione reminded them all.

“It’ll be practice for the N.E.W.T. Come on,” Ron urged. “Cocoa sounds good again.” He headed off down the corridor and after a moment they all followed him down toward the kitchens.

Exactly nineteen and a half minutes later they stood before the Defense classroom door again. “Sorry ’bout this,” Harry said to Penelope.

She smiled nicely and shrugged. Ron, spotting this, elbowed Harry hard on the arm. “Something you haven’t told us?” he asked.

“What?” Harry returned too forcefully. Everyone turned to him then, but fortunately, the door opened.

Snape gestured abruptly for them to enter. Their classmates were sitting along the platform edge looking gleeful. Eight desks sat in the center of the floor, the other’s pushed and piled against the left wall. Harry led the way in with some trepidation. He put his bag on the floor by the door as the others were doing behind him.

Back at the front of the room, Snape said, “All of the desks are cursed in different ways. All in a way that we covered, or…at least in a way related to something in your reading. You have ten minutes before you must all take a seat.”

They took that in before pulling out their wands and shuffling around to reach a desk. “Can we help each other?” Harry asked, eyeing Penelope looking under and around at the desk beside her.

“Since that will probably be more entertaining, certainly,” Snape said. He crossed his arms and raised his nose as he took in the scene.

Harry bit his lip and tried to concentrate. How would one curse a desk, he thought to himself. There were too many possibilities. On the far side from him, Neville had removed a sticking curse and gave a shout before moving to sit. “One curse per desk?” Harry quickly asked Snape.

“I did not say that,” Snape replied smoothly.

Neville froze, half sitting, and slowly moved away from the desk. He looked a little defeated to hear that. Harry ran through the basic un-cursing charms he knew to no avail. Beside him Hermione was going through a longer list. Harry stopped them all. “Everyone copy Hermione,” he said.

They all quieted and Hermione started over. After a long string of incantations four of the desks had two curses removed each and grumbles from the watching students made Harry think they were making good progress. “Anyone have any others?” Harry asked them all.

Neville knew three more counter-curses, which released one more curse. Frina had a few strange suggestions, which, if the desks each had two curses, freed up one more desk. Three minutes remained. Into the game now Harry had them split into groups to each tackle a remaining desk. He, Frina, and Penelope worked on the one that still had two unknown curses on it. As time ticked down, they made no progress on theirs, although Hermione and Ron finished un-cursing one other desk, which Hermione sat in proudly. Ron took a previously un-cursed seat beside her, both raising their hands at their success.

“Time,” Snape intoned firmly. “You all should be sitting, I believe.”

Everyone shuffled towards a seat, except Penelope who said to Harry, “You shouldn’t take that one,” indicating the doubly cursed desk.

“It’s all right,” Harry insisted, blocking her with his arm from sitting down. He pointed at a safe desk off to the side. “Take that one.” Ron was standing up to come over, concern in his gaze. Harry, feeling the weight of fate like he hadn’t in long while, and refusing to let himself glance at his parent, sat at the desk. He promptly passed out.

“Mr. Weasley,” Snape sneered. “Everyone should be sitting.”

Ron looked up from the hunched over, long, grey-haired figure of his friend with an appalled expression.

“It isn’t permanent, Mr. Weasley,” Snape commented tiredly.

Ron backed off slowly, giving Snape a baleful look. He sat down only because Hermione pulled him down. They looked around for the other cursed desk. Dean was sitting at it, but he shrugged, indicating nothing had happened.

“Well,” Snape breathed, stepping down from the platform. “Not as satisfying an exercise as had been hoped. Should have listened to Mr. Malfoy and made it three curses per desk.”

“What’s wrong with Harry?” Hermione insisted.

“Sleeping curse,” Snape replied. When Hermione slapped her hand on her desk in disappointment, he added snidely, “Too obvious, Ms. Granger?” He snapped his fingers before Harry, who lifted his head groggily before it fell back onto his arms with a thud. “Probably needs the sleep anyway,” he quipped. “As well as an aging curse, both will cancel when he is removed from the desk. Mr. Thomas on the other hand will be inflicted all day.” Snape said this last with an airy dismissal as he spun back to the front of the classroom.

“Thiw Tahw?” Dean said, then put his hand over his mouth.

“Dean?” Ron prompted in confusion as he slid out of his desk now that Snape’s back was turned.

“Oh, a backwards curse,” Hermione muttered. “Didn’t think of that one either.” She got up and followed Ron along with the rest of the students.

Ron lifted Harry up by his collar and examined his aged, sleeping face. “Cor, how old is he?”

The other students were gathering around as well. Snape replied, “About a hundred.” He turned and studied Harry as well with a curious look.

Ron dragged his alarming looking friend from the desk and placed him on the floor. Harry’s long grey hair shrunk away as did his wrinkles. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at everyone crowded around. “What happened?” he asked sharply

“You were zonked by a sleeping spell,” Ron said, giving him a hand up. “Right after you aged a hundred years.”

Harry looked doubtful about that before stretching his arms and saying, “Would explain why I’m so creaky.”

The room was rearranged to the muttered complaints of the other students, who clearly had hoped for a more interesting show.

After dinner, which was colorful and full of gossip about what Snape had done to them, the Gryffindors trooped up to the solitude of their tower. Penelope took a seat right beside Harry to study. Harry, not used to having someone insist on being so close all the time had to conjure a smile for her. He didn’t mind, really, but it did feel odd.

Days later, Harry, feeling knotted up over several things, was walking aimlessly around the darkened castle rather than returning to his revising and his friends. When he reached the corridor with the Defense classroom, he couldn’t avoid noticing the light streaming from under the heavy door. He lifted the latch, pushed the door open, and leaned in.

Snape stood in the far corner, wand out, facing the darkened windows. He held a book in his open palm near the light from a sooty smoking lamp. When his dark gaze came up, he looked pensive and slightly wary.

“Hi,” Harry said, stepping inside and re-latching the door.

Snape stiffly returned the greeting and continued to stand as he was. Curious, Harry approached. One-handed, Snape closed the book he held and dropped it to his side.

With a shuttered expression, Snape said, “Something I can do for you?”

Harry shrugged and tried not show his ever increasing curiosity. “I was taking a walk to think. Saw your light,” he added, gesturing back at the door.

Snape turned and set the book with two others on the table behind him. His slump-shouldered posture reminded Harry of the old Snape just a little too much.

“What are you working on?” Harry asked casually, his thoughts beginning to feel disturbingly suspicious rather than just curious.

Snape slowly turned back around, biting his lip. He looked reluctant to answer and Harry assumed he wouldn’t.

With his gaze focused beyond the far wall, Snape explained, “Something I should have worked out sooner. Especially since I have set myself out to be an exemplary teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“You are,” Harry confirmed.

With a wry grin Snape looked down at his wand, running his fingers over it. “I have been relying on your teaching, Harry. In this, anyway.” He studied Harry a moment as though looking for something in his gaze. “But it is unacceptable.”

“What are we discussing?” Harry asked, concerned by Snape’s defeated tone.

Snape sighed before replying with yet another frown, “The Patronus charm. It will be tested on the N.E.W.T. and I have not covered it.”

“Nearly every Seventh Year knows it already. Those that want to learn it.”

“Because of you.”

“And Hermione, Ron, Neville, and others.” Harry scoffed. “You make it sound like I taught all of them myself.”

Snape returned to thoughtfully examining his wand. It still bothered Harry rather a lot that Snape apparently could not produce a Patronus. It implied that he could not think of anything happy enough to.

It felt risky to do so, but Harry asked, “Do you want help with it?”

Snape laughed mirthlessly and turned to stare out the darkened window. “It is late—you should be in your dormitory,” he said flatly.

Frowning, Harry said, “Is there a Bogart around the castle anywhere?”

“Why?” Snape asked without turning from the window.

“Because, before, one would turn into a Dementor when I faced it. Although that might not be true anymore,” he added, thinking about it some more. This made him wonder what a Bogart would turn into for him now. Maybe he would rather wonder than know for certain.

Snape shifted, rubbed his hair back. “I have a Lethifold. I had not considered actually having something to practice on. It had not seemed feasible.” He turned around, fortunately looking less grim and more generally thoughtful. “I will fetch it from my storage.”

Harry opened the top book on the table, Damageless Defense, the one Snape had been holding when Harry came in. It had a pretty good description of the Patronus, he thought as he scanned it. The sound of something metal scraping on stone made Harry turn. Snape had just placed a small trunk on the floor. It had a row of heavy silver latches all around the lid. Snape looked around the room with his hands on his hips before sliding the trunk into the far corner and backing away from it. With repeated Alohamora spells he released the latches. They both watched a little tensely, but nothing happened.

“Maybe it died,” Harry suggested.

“Only fire can kill it. A hot one of dried conifer logs.”

They watched the unmoving trunk another minute.

Harry glanced at the book again and asked, “How far have you got into this?”

Snape didn’t reply, but his gaze hardened visibly. Harry wished this were easier, but he was determined now no matter how difficult it became.

Snape took the book and glanced over it as though to stall. He paced away and said, “I can get only vapor, not any sort of form.”

“You’re almost there, then,” Harry said brightly, relieved Snape was doing that well. Falling into D.A. mode, he added, “You just need to think of something a little happier.”

Snape did not react to that. Harry pulled out his wand and turned the long way down the room. He cleared his throat, and said, “Expecto Patronum.” Vapor poured from his wand as glowing fog and solidified into a stag, which was nearly blinding so close. The stag started to turn and Harry canceled the spell.

“What were you thinking of?” Snape asked.

Harry paused, caught off-guard by the question. In the past he had thought of his parents, but now that felt too remote. “I…was thinking about the future, I think.” It was true, he had not been thinking of anything in particular that time, just allowing himself to feel a fundamental optimism while letting the spell flow out of him knowing it would work.

“Hm,” Snape muttered and paced once.

Harry was jarred from his own musings by Snape’s outburst of dismay. Harry turned and saw what had caused it: the trunk was open and empty, and Snape was pacing the edge of the room with purpose. Harry joined him in searching for the Lethifold under the tables and desks.

As Harry bent low to check under the table at the front, he found himself laughing. “This would be embarrassing to have to explain.”

“Most definitely,” Snape agreed as he opened the door and checked the corridor before stuffing his brewing robe under the door and spelling it into place. “The only consolation would be that because it involved both of us, Minerva could not simply hire you immediately upon firing me.”

Harry laughed again, even though he was uncertain the situation warranted humor.

Snape shook out the first curtain on the end, saying, “You need a holiday if you are finding this that amusing.”

Harry shook out the curtain nearest him. “I won’t deny I need a holiday,” he said forcefully.

When Snape shook the next curtain a dark form resembling a discarded cloak fell out of it. He jumped back and aimed his wand at it instinctively before dropping his wand hand, disgusted with his own jumpiness. Harry made a noise of deep relief and stepped over beside his parent.

“Only dangerous if one is asleep,” Snape sneered at himself backing away and giving a sigh. “I will not deny that I could use a holiday as well.”

Harry followed him in stepping clear and gestured at the unmoving dark form on the floor. “Think of pouring hope out of your wand…that works for me. Give it a go,” he urged.

For a moment, Harry was so certain his guardian was going to snap at him that he hunched his shoulders in anticipation of it. But Snape sighed in a defeated way instead and shook his head.

“It is certainly none of your doing I cannot manage this,” he muttered, sounding disgusted all around.

He backed up another step with and more purpose leveled his wand…and just stood still, eyes moving around the floor and the wall as if seeking something. He glanced sharply at Harry, who waited with infinite patience beside the first row of desks, forcing himself to relax into an all around optimism.

With a frown Snape finally spoke the spell and a vapor curled out of his wand before fading out. Snape dropped his wand hand and rubbed his forehead harder than usual. He paced a few steps and came back, then stared at the ceiling.

Harry crossed his arms in a forcefully relaxed pose, not showing any of the distress he felt. “Maybe you are trying too hard?” he suggested.

Given how personal this spell could be, Harry wanted to turn away, but it felt important to show he had faith. For one thing, it should help make the spell work.

Snape drew his lips in and raised his wand again. The Lethifold had shifted ever so slightly, as though an unfelt breeze had ruffled it. With half-closed eyes Snape spoke the incantation again, in a low voice as if his thoughts were far away. This time the vapor curled around itself several times and twisted away. Harry at first thought it was drifting and dissipating yet again, but it actually coalesced without expanding into an asp. The viper swam through the air and struck at the Lethifold.

An unearthly squeal somewhere between a swine and sea bird went up as the Patronus struck. Dark cloth and coiling, glowing snake tumbled together along the edge of the wall. The snake struck repeatedly, long teeth flashing as they battled.

Harry shook off his mesmerization. “If you want your Lethifold back you better cancel the spell.”

Snape hesitated just an instant before he waved the charm away. He looked a little stunned. Eventually, he exhaled and stated, “An Egyptian cobra.”

Harry shrugged, trying to seem like that was an okay Patronus, but he couldn’t help grinning. “You did it though.”

“Yes. Thank you for your assistance,” he said stiffly.

Harry grinned more. The Lethifold lay small and kinked in the corner of the room. “Need help putting that away?”

“No,” Snape assured him forcefully.

He waved a charm at the trunk and pushed it over beside the dark creature with his foot and waved another charm at the trunk. Rushing air sounded and the Lethifold was sucked into the depths of it. The lid shut and a flicking wave latched it all around. At the door Harry tugged the old stained robe clear of the gap and shook it out before draping it over his arm.

“Ever tried to become an Animagus?” Harry asked.

Snape raised his eyes briefly to the ceiling. “Yes, of course,” he replied peevishly. He paused to removed the spells protecting his office door before saying, “Now I truly wish I had managed, given the animal I most likely would become.”

Inside, Harry draped the robe over the back of the visitor’s chair. “One of the deadliest snakes,” he said.

“Yes,” Snape agreed in a tone that made it seem as though his thoughts were a little far away, or long ago.

Harry frowned. “It’s late…I better get to the tower.”

Snape crouched to load the small trunk into a heavy cabinet, locked it, then locked the storage room door. He turned and stood with arms hanging lax at his sides.

“Good night, Harry,” he said, sounding distant.