Harry followed Jardin’s direction to a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.  He then looked at the raven and asked, Now what?

< You have to say the password. >

< No idea. >

Harry rolled his eyes and said sarcastically, That helps me LOADS, Jar.

< Hmm. > was the only response he got out of the raven.

“Mr. Potter?”

“AHHH!”

< AHHH! >

Both Jardin and Harry jumped then turned to see tiny Professor Flitwick standing there.  The small, white-haired wizard smiled warmly as Harry struggled to get back his breath.  He was amazed that someone had managed to sneak up on him for all his street senses.

“‘Ello, professor.”

Flitwick nodded, still smiling.  Harry had always gotten along with the warm, Charms professor who was also Head of Ravenclaw House.

“Hello, Harry.  What would you be doing outside the Headmaster’s door?”

“Madam Pomfrey sent me ‘ere.”

Flitwick arched an eyebrow and Harry added, “There’s been another attack.”

Flitwick’s eyes widened and he asked, “Who?

“Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly ‘Eadless Nick.”

“A ghost?”

Harry nodded.  That was exactly how he felt about the situation.  He often ran into the ghosts on his late night wanderings of the castle and Nick was the one he ran into most.

“Oh my…this is not good.  I should have a talk with Albus…”

“Let me do that Frederick.”

Harry and Flitwick turned to see McGonagall standing there.

< Oh dear, > said Jardin.

Shhh, warned Harry.

“Well, I don’t…”

“I have to talk with him anyway, Frederick.”

Flitwick nodded and said, “Alright, Minerva.”  He smiled at Harry and added, “I shall see you next class, Harry.”

Harry nodded and watched the little professor as he walked off.

“Potter.”

< Oh…damn. >

Harry turned to look up at McGonagall.  He had never gotten along with the Transfiguration professor and he had yet to find out why.  She seemed to have a strange dislike of him.

McGonagall watched him for a moment longer then turned to the gargoyle and barked, “Lemon drop!”

The stone gargoyle sprang aside and Harry saw a moving spiral staircase behind it.  McGonagall ushered him onto it and stepped up behind him, as if to keep him from turning and running.  As they went up, he heard the wall thud close behind him.

They rose in countless circles until Harry saw a large oak door looming up ahead.  A golden griffin’s head formed the brass knocker.

< Straight into the lion’s jaws, > muttered Jardin.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

The Headmaster’s office was a large circular room, full of snoozing portraits of the former headmaster’s and headmistresses.  A large, claw-footed desk took up part of the room.  Harry was watching one of the portraits slowly slide down out of its frame until Jardin spoke.

< Harry. >

Harry turned and saw the Sorting Hat sitting on a shelf behind the desk.  McGonagall frowned at him for a moment then curtly told him to wait.  He barely noticed it when she left.

< That’s the Sorting Hat. >

“I know.”

< The Sorting Hat.  Godric Gryffindor’s hat. >

“Uh-huh.”

Jardin gave a little shake and said, < I am amazed. >

Harry shook his head at the raven and continued to look around.

< So, you’re the young scamp that Dark Knight of Albus’ gave the silly little raven to. >

Harry blinked and turned to look at a decrepit-looking bird with half of its feathers fallen out.  As he watched another feather fell from its tail.  But the dark eyes that looked balefully at Harry were as black as Sna – his father’s and glittering darkly.  Jardin puffed up his feathers and cried indignantly, < Silly raven!  I’ll show you ‘silly raven’ you old… >

Harry concentrated and silenced Jardin.  The raven let out a surprised squawk and glared balefully at Harry.

“Ye were askin’ fer i’, Jar.”

Jardin puffed up his feathers and buried his head under a wing.  The decrepit-looking bird’s voice echoed through Harry’s head as it laughed.

< I see you have a fine hold on the young snapdragon. >

Harry chuckled at the reference to Jardin as a snapdragon then snapped to attention as the bird made gagging sound before bursting into flames.  He watched in awe as it burned until only ashes remained.  Just as Dumbledore entered the room, a tiny newborn bird poked its head up out of the ashes.

“Ah, Harry.  I see you found Fawkes.  A pity you had to see him on a Burning Day.”

Harry nodded and watched as Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk.  Just as he was about to speak, there was a bang from somewhere outside the door then the sound of footsteps charging up the staircase.  A moment later Snape burst into the office.

“Headmaster…”

Dumbledore arched an eyebrow but his blue eyes twinkled.  “Severus.”

Snape looked to his left and froze.

“Harry!”

Harry smiled partially and said, “So ‘appy ye remember me name, Father.”

Dumbledore chuckled.

“So, the truth has come out.”

Harry whirled to look at the older wizard in surprise.

“Ye knew?”

“Of course.  Severus told me and I told him to tell you.”  Dumbledore looked at Snape and continued, “I suppose you did?”

Snape shook his head and said, “He found out on his own.  Brewed the same potion I did in order to find out.”  The dark-haired wizard cast a look of pride in Harry’s direction and Harry involuntarily felt a surge of happiness.

“I see,” said Dumbledore, looking from Harry to Snape.  “Was there something you wanted, Severus?”

“Yes.  Minerva came and informed me that Harry was being charged with the attack on Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicholas.”

“Not in the slightest.  Though I do want to talk to Harry.”

Harry blinked and said, “Sir?”

“Only one question, Harry.  Is there anything you would care to tell me?”

Harry frowned and thought.  Was there?  He thought of that strange voice he had heard on the night of the first attack and which he had not heard since.

“No, sir.  Nothin’ a’tol.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” said Harry as he concentrated on releasing his hold on Jardin’s ‘voice’.

“You do remember what I said?  About us having a talk?”

“Yeh.”

“Here it is.  Have you been hearing ‘voices’ in the hallway?”

Harry blinked and looked up at Sna – his father.

“Why?” he asked suspiciously.

Snape shrugged slightly.  “Simple curiosity…”

“Oh.”

“HAROLD JAMES POTTER!”

Harry froze as he saw a flash of dark hair and angry blue eyes coming down the corridor.

“Oh no…”

Niamh charged forward, eyes as hard and cold as icicles.  She grabbed him by the collar of his robes and jerked him down so their faces were level.  Jardin gave a startled squawk and flew to Snape’s shoulder, who was watching the confrontation with unveiled amusement.

“Where – in – all – nine – hells – were – you??”

Harry looked calmly into Niamh’s eyes and said, “The dungeons.”

“Not when I looked.”

“Then the library.”

“Where the third attack was!”

“Yeh.”

“Harry!”

Snape smirked and stepped into the conversation.

“I assure you, Miss O’Feir, that Mr. Potter is not being blamed for that.”

Niamh looked from her friend to her Head of House three times before releasing Harry and taking a step back.

“Well, that’s good.  So, Harry, erm…”

Harry arched an eyebrow at her and said, “Wha’?”

“Are you - erm…”

“I believe,” said Snape, “that Miss O’Feir is asking if you are mad at her.”

Harry gave his father a mild glare then turned to Niamh.  He smiled and said, “I’m na mad a’ ye, Ni.”

Niamh beamed and enveloped him in a rib-crushing hug.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, Harry.”

Harry rubbed at his ribcage, wincing, and grumbled, “S’okay.”

“I should go find Ron and them; they’re still combing the castle for you!”

“Le’s go then!”

Harry and Niamh ran off, leaving Snape standing in the corridor as Jardin flew after them.  Just before they rounded a corner a voice echoed through Snape’s head.

We’ll have that talk soon, Father.