Harry moaned to himself when he woke up on Saturday morning and discovered, to his distaste, that the weather was still wet and stormy. The gloomy feeling persisted as he trudged down to breakfast, carrying his broom with him. Luckily Hermione had taught him the water-repelling charm, Impervius, for his glasses, so he would be able to see – but it would be impossible to catch the snitch, much less see it, with how dark the sky was and the wind buffeting everything to and fro.

Draco wished him good luck, as did his father, as they headed towards their respective breakfasts. Ron, Hermione and Neville were soon sitting next to him and they were joined by the rest of the team. The twins didn’t look depressed by the weather and Oliver just became more fanatic about winning the game against Hufflepuff, if that were possible. He had budged Ron over so that he could sit next to Harry and continually natter at him about the Hufflepuff seeker, Cedric Diggory.

“He’s new this year, Snape, but he’s wicked fast – although not as fast as you, not with your Nimbus and smaller stature!” he assured the teen. “Just get the Snitch as fast as possible. We’re not looking for points here, just a quick end to the game. It’s just the first game of the season – we can worry about points later. I can’t believe the Slytherins are pulling out just because their seeker scratched his arm!”

“He’s faking it,” Harry mumbled into his pumpkin juice.

“I don’t understand why they don’t have a spare seeker!” Oliver continued complaining.

“Nott is their spare, Draco was their first string player,” Harry reminded his captain. Oliver coloured slightly at his gaffe.

“Sorry, forgot. Still, why didn’t the professor step in and insist that Nott was fine?”

“It was the captain’s decision and dad doesn’t interfere with his captain.” Oliver nodded at this insight into the Slytherin team dynamics, then continued to badger the other players until Fred and George shared a look, then got up and physically removed their captain from the table and frog-marched him out the doors with the rest of the team reluctantly following.

Harry sighed and joined the general Quidditch migration, pulling his hood over his head and holding it there with one hand as he ran to the stadium. He should have given it up as a lost cause because he was still soaked to the skin when he reached the locker-rooms. Several drying charms later, and a few warmth charms applied to his Quidditch uniform, and soon they were all standing under the canopy that would open to admit them to the stadium. They were warm and dry for the last time that morning until Harry – or Cedric – caught the Snitch.

****

“Annnnd they’re off!” Lee Jordan cried into the microphone as the two teams took to the sky after Madame Hooch threw the Quaffle into the air and released the bludgers. A moment later, as the players were flying around, the tiny golden Snitch was released and the teacher hovered the ball chest to the sidelines and mounted her broom to fly as referee.

“And Gryffindor has possession, Katie Bell passes to Angelina who fakes to the left and throws and SCORES! Gryffindor 10, Hufflepuff 0!”

Keeping one ear on the commentary, as they could barely see one hundred metres from their position in the stands, Severus and Draco watched as Harry and Cedric circled the pitch, well above the other players, as they searched for the Snitch. It was obvious in this downpour that both teams wanted to end the game quickly and their play showed it; both houses were playing aggressively, which was uncharacteristic for the Hufflepuffs.

Severus had brought out a large black umbrella which he held over Draco and himself. It was spelled underneath with a rain repellent and warmth charms, but the weather still managed to buffet them in their seats.

Draco yelled out in warning when a bludger came particularly close to his brother, but there was no way Harry could have heard him – although the slighter wizard did manage to move out of the way in time. At one point Severus felt his heart leap into his mouth as Diggory went into a sudden dive, but Harry had sussed him out and did not follow. Meanwhile, the points were adding up on either side of the scoreboard and the Snapes watched Oliver fly up to Harry at one point and give him pointers, although nothing could be heard over the roar of the crowds and the crashing of the thunder and torrential rains. Harry shook his head and flew off leaving his captain still shouting directions at him.

****

Harry flew away from Oliver, searching the skies and the area below him for the snitch. Wait, was that a glint hovering near a Gryffindor stand? He looked around for Cedric and, not seeing his opponent, flew over casually to investigate... but it was just a seventh-years’ gold watch. Harry pulled his broom up and drifted higher... until he nearly fell off his broom in surprise when he spotted a large, black dog at the top of the Gryffindor stands.

A Grim? If it was a Grim, it certainly didn’t look grim; instead its eyes seemed to be glinting with a hint of amusement and its tongue was lolling out in some sort of doggie grin. In fact, it looked like the dog he’d seen the other night that had met up with Hermione’s cat. He shook his head to clear it. When he looked again the dog was gone and Cedric was speeding past him, nearly sending Harry into a sloth-roll in his wake, heading into the clouds chasing a little gold ball with wings. Harry cursed as he turned on the spot and leaned closer to the broom handle of his Nimbus, streaking after Cedric.

“And the Seekers have spotted the Snitch! Cedric Diggory is leading the chase, but Harry Potter-Snape is closing in on him!” rang Lee’s enthusiastic voice over the announcement system.

Severus and Draco peered out from underneath the umbrella and spotted the two players soaring and zig-zagging across the sky in an all-out effort to catch the elusive golden ball.

Closer and closer Harry approached his fellow seeker, all other aspects of the game falling away from him as they soared higher and faster after the ball. The game and the noise of the crowds was so far below that they could no longer hear it over the storm and the wind. The Snitch led them on a merry chase through the turbulent skies, and the two seekers were chasing it with everything they had. Soon, Harry was neck and neck with Diggory and they were reaching their hands out towards the prize, fingers stretched to their limit. Harry snuck a look over at Cedric and they grinned with the shared exhilaration of the chase. Harry reached out a little further, straining his fingers to touch the fluttery wings – he could almost feel them... when he felt something crackle along his broom. He looked back over his shoulder and nearly fell off when he saw a black cowled and cloaked Dementor crawling hand over hand up his now ice-covered broomstick toward him.

He screamed and tried to shake the creature off, twisting his broom in the air in order to yank the twigs from the skeletal hands. Finally it worked and Harry veered off, only to find himself amidst several more Dementors. The rain was turning to ice in their presence, coating him and his broom as he screamed in terror – the memories of his mother and step-father dieing being yanked to the forefront of his mind. He raised his frozen hands to his ears, scrunching his face in pain, in a vain attempt to block out the noise, but it still penetrated and he fell unconscious, never noticing as he plummeted off his broom.

****

Draco screamed when he noticed the body falling towards the earth; the red and gold-wrapped body that was rapidly falling... but Dumbledore and his father were fast, each incanting Arresto Momentum at the same time. It slowed Harry’s fall, but he still hit the pitch with a resounding thud and bounced twice before coming to a rest, limbs akimbo, glasses smashed, and face white as a sheet while the rain continued to pour from the heavens.

Without quite realising how it happened, Draco found he and his father by Harry’s side before the teams had even landed and Dumbledore, with several other Professors, was herding the Dementors away from the pitch and back to the gates, which they were in violation of crossing. It was the first time Draco had seen the headmaster thoroughly incensed over something. The man almost had steam coming out of his ears, he was that furious with the creatures.

Severus was taking wand readings of Harry’s condition as he waited for Madame Pomfrey to hurry from the castle. He didn’t want to move Harry and possibly cause him more injury than had already been inflicted, he explained to his older son as they waited. He stabilised what injuries he could, stoically keeping his anxiety hidden behind his mask, but Draco knew his father and he knew that the older wizard was practically overridden with worry about Harry. Draco was as well; he had never seen anyone survive a fall from that high up.

“Severus, what happened?” Pomfrey queried as she rushed over.

“He fell off his broom when Dementors found him. Albus and I cast an arresting charm, but it was nearly too late. As it was, he bounced a few times when he hit the turf. I’ve discovered several cracked and broken bones, many contusions and cuts... but I believe he is safe enough to move indoors at this point,” the Potions master summed up for the Medi-witch.

She absorbed his report as she scanned the boy herself. She quickly came to the same conclusions. “But let us immobilise his neck and spine just to make sure, shall we?”

By this time, Draco noticed that both teams had landed and had made a circle around the group tending to Harry. Diggory looked especially worried. He sighed to himself before levering himself off the soaked grass and walked over to the older student.

“Diggory.” He nodded his head toward Cedric.

 “Snape.”

“Look, there wasn’t anything you could have done – you didn’t even know Harry was in danger, I could tell that from down here. Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he advised.

“I still feel responsible... if only I’d looked back when I felt Harry slowing down, but the second he pulled back, the snitch nearly jumped into my hand! The next thing I know, it is starting to really get cold, and your brother was falling past me – he didn’t look alive. I was so stunned I couldn’t move or think properly!”

“I know... but you did win, fair and square.”

“I’m still going to offer a rematch.”

Draco snorted. “They won’t take it; Merlin, Harry won’t take it! You won, Diggory; you had no way of knowing Harry was being attacked, you had flown too far ahead by the time you realised he wasn’t there. Leave it, Hufflepuff. Accept the win,” he sagely advised.

“I don’t know... I’ll ask Harry, just in case.” Draco just shrugged in response; he wasn’t going to convince the fair-minded Seeker.

They stood there together watching as Severus and Pomfrey levitated Harry to a conjured stretcher, immobilising him and directing the stretcher ahead of them. With a motion of his head, Severus motioned Draco to join them in the long, wet walk and the boy was soon at his father’s side after giving Cedric a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. He wouldn’t have wanted to win a game this way, either.

The circle parted to let the little parade through and Draco was stunned to realise that outside of the ring of Quidditch players there was an even larger gathering of students who hadn’t left after the end of the game. He spotted Hermione and the other Gryffindor faithful huddled together under a large red and gold umbrella, Hermione and Ginny Weasley had silent tears running down their cheeks as they watched the Snapes pass by. They walked past several more random students until he came across his dorm mates from Ravenclaw and a small, slight hand was clasping his quickly in sympathy before letting go and he glimpsed a head full of long, bright hair slip behind Boot. A gentle push in the back from his father reminded him they needed to keep going quickly and he hurried to catch up.

Snickers were what greeted them as they reached the stadium arch, but a sharp look from his father was all it took to shut up his former mates from Slytherin.

Draco pretty much blanked out on the rest of the trip to the hospital wing, but he became aware again as Harry was transferred to his favourite bed in the ward, his uniform vanished in favour of the striped hospital pyjamas, and a whole array of potions assembled themselves on the nightstand next to his bed. Draco could tell his brother was going to be having a tough time of it the rest of the night. He settled on a nearby bed to watch as his father and the matron worked their magic over his best mate.

****

“Draco... Dragon, wake up.” Draco moaned as his eyelids fluttered open to reveal his father hovering over him, a hand on his shoulder shaking him gently.

“What time is it?” he mumbled, sitting up from the reclined position he had been in against the hard headboard of the bed.

“Dinner time. Professor Flitwick is here to take you to the Great Hall and then back to Ravenclaw.” That news woke Draco up immediately.

“But Dad, Harry...”

“Is sound asleep and mending,” he assured his son. “I’ll be right here with him, don’t worry, and you can come back after breakfast tomorrow.” He offered a hand to the teen who gratefully accepted it and used the leverage to heave himself off the bunk. He took a step over to his brother’s bed and was relieved to note that Harry did look much better than earlier and he allowed his head of house to lead him away.

Severus sighed as he watched Draco leave the infirmary, then grabbed the stack of papers he was reviewing and sat back down to mark them. Every now and then, Harry moaned to himself and tossed a bit in his sleep. Severus would reach over and smooth a hand over the long dark hair or take hold of Harry’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, which seemed to reassure his son, and the boy would calm down and drop into a deeper sleep.

Periodically, Poppy would wander by to check on her patient, clucking to herself as she made notations on his chart. As she came by for the fourth time that evening, Severus finally became unglued enough to bark at her.

“Stop that infernal noise, woman, and just tell me what the matter is!” he thundered.

“Severus!” She shot him a dangerous look as she rounded on the irate father. “There is nothing wrong, he is healing a little slower than I would like – but that is typical Harry.”

Snape was barely mollified. “Then why all the tongue clacking? It’s driving me to distraction!”

“Was I? I’m sorry, nervous habit I suppose. I never really noticed I was doing that.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “I can see where it would be a bit annoying,” she chuckled. Her companion only grumbled under his breath as he returned to the journal he was now reading. “Have you seen Albus?” she enquired, making notations in Harry’s chart before spelling another dose of pain reliever into his stomach.

“He was here earlier,” Severus acknowledged. “He came by to check on Harry while you were getting your supper.  Apparently the crowd at the Quidditch game was too tempting a target for the Dementors and they forgot their training and slipped onto the grounds. He has set them straight and erected even more barriers to keep them from entering the grounds unbidden. How good that will work, I don’t know.”

Sighing, he closed his eyes in weariness, pinching the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to stem the headache that was forming there. “I don’t like them being here, Poppy,” he confided, opening his eyes to gaze at his friend. “They are a rogue element that apparently didn’t work as Black was still able to get onto the grounds and up to Harry’s tower,” he quietly ranted. “And they could have killed Harry today with that stunt; he was lucky Albus and I both spotted him at the same time and were able to slow his descent – but still, it was a close thing.” He reached out a slightly trembling hand and laid it on his son’s brow, gently brushing away stray hairs from his face. He wished Harry was still small enough so that he could lift the boy into his lap, protecting him in his arms through the night, but Harry had grown enough this past year that it would have been a difficult manoeuvre to carry off. He settled for holding his son’s hand instead. Poppy patted him on the shoulder once more.

“I’ll leave you here, then. I’ll be back in the morning. Do try and get some sleep yourself, Severus.” He nodded absently at her suggestion and she sighed before turning back toward her office and the apartment beyond.

A short time later a little parade of Gryffindors entered the ward and filed quietly along the aisle until they came to Harry’s bed where it faced the large windows that showed the Quidditch Pitch. Severus turned in his seat to face the motley crew, noting Granger and Weasley were at the front of the group.

“Professor,” Hermione began.

“Miss Granger, please keep your voice down, my son is sleeping,” he chided, standing up and moving the little group away from the bed.

“Of course, sir! Sorry. We just came to see how Harry was doing...” She tried to peer around the formidable father to catch a glimpse of her friend.

“He is mending. He should be back in classes by Monday,” he supplied, bringing her attention back to him. “Is there anything else?”

Hermione reddened, but nodded her head in the affirmative. “We also wanted to leave him some get-well cards,” she said, handing him a stack of envelopes that were addressed to Harry. “And we also brought back his broom, but uhhh...” She bit her lower lip in wariness of reporting something. She finally pushed Ron forward who seemed to be holding a large cloth bag that seemed full of... twigs?

“Well, sir... the wind grabbed hold of it after Harry fell and... well... it sort of landed in the Whomping Willow and you know how it hates things running into it...” This student coloured up as well and it seemed to paralyze his vocal cords in the process. Instead, he thrust the bag forward towards his professor.

Severus gave the students a curious look then took the burlap bag. He had a feeling he knew what was in it, and he reluctantly opened the top to gaze down at the contents. Splinters of shiny mahogany wood met his eyes; a rather largish piece sported the legend Nimbus 20... in shiny gold letters before it broke off. Tufts of broom straw were mixed in liberally with the mess.

“Oh, my...” he groaned.

“I don’t think it can be Reparo-ed,” Oliver opined.

“No, Mr Woods, it certainly can not,” the professor agreed. He sighed and closed the bag, setting it on the floor behind him. “When is your next match, Woods?”

“Not until March, sir, but we’ll start practicing again in February.”

“I’ll make sure he has a new broom by then,” he assured the Quidditch captain who seemed cheered by the news.

“Thank you, sir!”

“Now, it is nearing curfew – you have just enough time to make it back to the tower,” he said as he chivvied them out of the infirmary, maintaining his stoic face until the door had closed on the smallest Weasley. Then he cracked a small smile to himself. Loyal friends were hard to come by in this world, and Harry seemed to have them in spades.

Another hour passed in quiet solitude, Harry had finally curled up in a more relaxed sleeping position, indicating that the potions were finally taking affect, and Severus was immersed in a fascinating article about the effects of North American mosses in the efficacy of some Native American potions. He almost didn’t hear the snick of the door as it opened to admit the Defence professor. Snape had his wand out and pointed at the man without even looking up from his article. Lupin stopped in his tracks.

“What do you want, Lupin? It isn’t time for your potion yet.” He still hadn’t looked up from the journal and the wand remained levelled at the man’s chest.

“Of course not; I just came by to check on Harry, see how he was doing – it was such a nasty fall,” he said sympathetically.

Severus finally looked up from the magazine and closing it deliberately and slowly, placed it on Harry’s nightstand where his earlier work lay.

“I’m going to say this clearly, Lupin, I don’t trust you. I don’t think you would ever hurt Harry deliberately, but I don’t think you would hesitate to help a perceived friend, even if it hurt others in the process. Do I make myself clear?”

Remus gazed at the protective father that was now standing between him and the sleeping child on the bed. “I didn’t let Sirius into the castle, Severus,” he said in a low, urgent voice. “He betrayed us, he betrayed Lily! Hell, he even betrayed Harry – why would I let him in?”

“But you have your suspicions as to how he got in and got away, don’t you?” Severus accused. He saw the man flinch and smiled grimly in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought. I knew you and your so called band of marauders knew about some secret passages in and out of Hogwarts – besides the one to the Shrieking Shack.”

“Filch knows all about the secret passages, Severus, and I checked the Whomping Willow passage myself that night; he’s not staying at the shack,” he pleaded. “I checked with Filch about the other passages – and he said they’ve all been used over the years – although one caved in during the spring last year. There is no telling who has been using them – but I’m sure it’s just students.”

“You’re sure it’s just students,” Severus barked in a mocking manner. “Use your purported brains, Lupin; I know you were the brains of the bunch. Black had to have used one of the other passages to get in and out – it was the only way. None of the portraits saw him traipsing in the front or back doors.” He weaved his wand lazily at the man. “For some reason, the headmaster trusts you. I think he has some misplaced loyalty, myself. My children, on the other hand, have a tendency to get ‘bad vibes’ from you – as Draco puts it so succinctly. Children have a remarkable capacity to understand things instinctively, Lupin, and I think they have you dead to rights.”

“They seemed to enjoy the Hogsmeade afternoon in my offices,” Remus murmured.

“They tolerated it, Lupin, and I allowed it as you are one of the only people who can tell Harry stories about his mother and I needed someone to watch them for me that afternoon as the rest of the heads of house needed to be in Hogsmeade. Harry tolerates you only marginally better than he does Dumbledore. Don’t let it become a habit, because it won’t.” He gave the man a shrewd look. “I still believe, if given half the chance, you would help Black in whatever nefarious scheme he has cooking in his Dementor–addled brain.” He ignored the mumbled no’s coming from his fellow professor. “So let this be my warning to you: if Harry comes to any harm from Black, I will lay the blame securely at your door and will let your little furry affliction become known to the school in general.”

“Severus, there is no need for threats; I hate Sirius as much as you do at this point. I wouldn’t dare let him come near Harry or Draco, for that matter.”

“Make sure you do. Now leave us, please. I will give Harry your regards when he awakens.” He lowered his wand hand, but kept it ready as he narrowed his gaze on the other man, mentally shoving him towards the door. Lupin sighed, taking the hint, and started back down the aisle.

“Oh, and Lupin?” The other man halted and turned around, a half-hopeful look evident on his face.

“If I ever catch you using me as the butt of a Boggart Joke again, I’ll renege all your rights to see Harry outside of class time. Augusta Longbottom’s get-up? Really? That was low even for you, Wolf,” he sneered.

Remus took a chance. “But it worked; Neville was able to do the charm.”

“I’ve been working on fixing Longbottom’s fear of me, Lupin. It has been a long journey since last year and this hasn’t helped. Now the boy is doubly afraid of my reaction – and his potions work, which was improving, is back to disastrous. Don’t do it again, I have a reputation to maintain and that little joke seriously undermined it on several levels. Besides,” he continued, “you don’t prank nearly as well as Potter and Black.” Lupin had the good graces to redden before nodding in his colleague’s direction. He then turned and retreated the rest of the way across the ward, letting the doors close quietly behind him. Severus didn’t relax his stance until Lupin was out of sight, then he rolled his shoulders and neck to get the kinks out of them and returned to his seat, reaching for his interrupted reading material.

****

“Pye, it was an awful idea! He got distracted when he saw me, and then the Dementors came… it was horrendous. There were so many of them...  The cold permeated everything, and I felt like I was back in my cell…” He shivered at the memory, closing his eyes against the vision. He had lost the plot, tearing out of the stands as soon as he had felt the first touch of the cold. “When he fell from his broom,” he continued, “I thought my heart would stop right then and there.”

He had stopped halfway back to the forest when he had heard the screams. He’d turned around and looked up in time to see his godson fall off the broom, and Dumbledore’s save. He opened his eyes to look at his friend again. “Thank Merlin for Dumbledore! He slowed Harry’s fall before he landed, so the damage wasn’t that bad. To top it off, his broom was demolished by the Whomping Willow when it blew away in the storm.” He whined as he remembered watching the vicious tree tear the offending broom apart, pieces exploding all over the lawn underneath. The big, black dog looked absolutely miserable. Crookshanks came up and rubbed his cheeks against the dog’s head, commiserating with him. “I wish I could do something for him. I feel like a horrible Godfather…”

Crookshanks nipped his friend’s ear playfully. “You are not a horrible Godfather; you just can’t help the situation you are in, right now. Remember when Harry was a baby? You were a great Godfather then, getting him presents, taking him for rides when he was able to hold on, playing with him on the floor. … I’ll never forget his first birthday when you bought him that ridiculous toy broom! He had James following him trying to stop him, chased me - and nearly had me skewered on the end of it, and broke a vase.” He chuckled to himself at the remembered chaos, and Lily nearly rolling on the floor, laughing.

“Lily sent me a letter…” Sirius reminisced. “I wish I could’ve been there, it sounded like fun. Merlin, the number of Christmases and Birthday’s I’ve missed… that’s it!” he declared, standing up suddenly, dislodging his friend.

“What’s it?” Crooks asked, shaking his fur back into place and narrowing his eyes at the shaggy canine.

“I can make it up to Harry – I can get him a new broom for Christmas!”

“How in Merlin’s name are you going to do that, Sirius?” enquired the Kneazle. “You can’t go into town and buy a broom; the minute you change the Dementors will be on you!”

“That’s where you come in.” The canine gave him a friendly push with his nose, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth in a huge doggy grin.