"Headmaster," Snape greeted the older man as he and Harry strode from the fireplace at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. "Have you any news of import?"

Albus Dumbledore's eyes were sad and sombre as he nodded. "I remained with the Aurors while they investigated the Owlery and examined the young lady's body. Even without an autopsy they were able to determine that she was subjected to the Corpus Aqueous curse before she was killed."

Snape flicked a glance towards Harry. "It increases the water content in the body. Corpus Aqueous alone would kill were it allowed to last sufficient time." His dark eyes assessed Dumbledore again. "And so?"

"She was cursed immediately before being flung from the Owlery; she died on impact."

Snape frowned. "I see. The Aurors presume Corpus Aqueous was inflicted out of sheer spite? It would appear the only purpose for it was to allow the body to be greatly damaged."

"Its purpose is to link the crime to someone who is believed to virulently hate Miss Parkinson. And indeed, the Aurors have already heard from several 'helpful' Slytherins how angry Mr Malfoy became that day in your class, Severus, how he screamed that he would make her and her parents sorry."

Again, the Potions Master explained for Harry's benefit, "Between Samhain and the incident in my class, Miss Parkinson spent a weekend at home. She had already broken off her . . . dalliance with Draco, but attacked him only after she returned from visiting her parents. Draco has long blamed them for the way her attitude towards him suddenly hardened. Unfortunately, he did rather advertise this fact that day in class."

"And so now the Aurors believe he deliberately arranged for her death to be particularly gruesome, so much so that her parents would not be able to see in the body the daughter they love." The headmaster's beard swayed as he sadly shook his head.

Harry couldn't help the question that came to mind. "But Draco didn't do it, not the Aqueous curse nor the murder itself. So, instead of the curse being used to help frame him, maybe it was supposed to disguise the identity of whoever was killed? Maybe Draco's right, and it's not Pansy at all." Of course, that wouldn't account for what they'd seen on the map, but they'd concluded already that the map had to have been fooled . . .

"Well-reasoned, my boy," Dumbledore praised him, though there was no twinkle in those kindly old eyes, not now. "However, there is no doubt that it is Miss Parkinson who has passed on. The official Hogwarts roll magically updates itself, and her name has been crossed out with the notation deceased written alongside."

Dumbledore sighed, then sadly continued, "Besides, when her parents went to see her, they could recognise her magically if not physically. A little bit of a person's magical signature lingers for a short time after death, you see. It's not enough for strangers to detect, generally, but someone who has known you throughout your whole life can often sense it."

"Can't Polyjuice Potion mimic the signature?" Harry pressed.

Snape sighed. "Harry, I can see what you are trying to do. Having heard how very much her death distresses Draco, you are trying to find some hope for him. But there is none. It is Pansy Parkinson who was killed, and to suggest otherwise to Draco would be abominably cruel and only prolong his grief."

"All right," Harry sighed. "I'll cut it out. I just think . . . the Aqueous curse sounded more than a little strange. Suspicious, I mean."

"No doubt the intent was to apply the curse using Draco's wand. When the conspirators could not make it perform, they doubtless still reasoned that the curse itself would help incriminate Draco, as all of Hogwarts was aware of how vicious his anger seemed that day in my class."

Dumbledore stiffened slightly. "You have certain knowledge, Severus?"

That question confused Harry until Snape drew out of his robes a smooth wand Harry recognised as Draco's. "Not as of yet, but I believe this may be of some use to us." He held the wand out towards the headmaster, who took it in hand.

"How did you get that? Dobby was supposed to return it to me," Harry objected.

"He wanted to," Snape confirmed. "He was rather adamant, but he is in fact employed by Hogwarts these days. The magical constraints governing house-elf behaviour require him to do the bidding of staff members above students, even favourite students."

Harry frowned. "But . . . Dobby's not bonded to Hogwarts, is he?"

"Technically, no," Dumbledore murmured as he turned the wand over and over in his hands, staring at it almost as though Legilimising it. "I thought better than to do that to him, especially considering that Lucius Malfoy is one of the governors. I did tell him that he must do as staff asks, however."

"I still don't like it," Harry argued. "I told him not to tell anybody, anybody, I'd sent him to look for the wand."

"He didn't tell me," Snape said impatiently. "I already knew. Harry, I have no doubt the elf is loyal to you, but he is aware both that I am your legal guardian and that I have your best interests at heart. I told him I had given you a sleeping draught and that I would return the wand as requested. Even so, I had to apply a bit of . . . magical pressure, shall we say, to get the wand from him."

"You didn't hurt him?"

Snape tone was impatient. "I haven't time to argue the ethics of making a recalcitrant house-elf do as it is told."

"The circumstances of your obtaining this," Dumbledore murmured. "Tell me."

"The conspirators must have realised, when the wand would not do their bidding, that keeping it in their possession would incriminate them rather than Draco. Neither could they leave it in the Owlery since it would not contain the Corpus Aqueous curse Miss Parkinson suffered. Therefore, they took it with them onto the grounds. Thinking, I presume, that Draco might attempt to Accio it, they applied rather heavy anti-summoning charms to a large area of soft earth and then thrust it straight down into the dirt." Snape took a breath. "A large rock was further warded and was then placed over the site. I suspect this was to mark it in case the conspirators wished to retrieve the wand at some point. Dobby, by the way, is now standing guard nearby with strict instructions to alert me the instant anyone appears to take an undue interest in that particular area of the grounds."

"So Dobby Accio'd it, is that how he got it?"

The Potions Master shook his head. "No, as it turns out, the kinship potion Draco applied to his wand renders it immune to any magic not issued by a Malfoy. Not even I could summon it, now. I doubt I could have found it, either, but as Dobby is a former Malfoy elf--"

"The kinship potion!" Harry exclaimed. "It made the wand . . . uh, just scream Malfoy or something? I mean, in a way Dobby could detect?"

"Yes, precisely. It bonded the wand so tightly to the Malfoy name that the elf could track it, after a fashion. And since I am a staff member, I could track him. When I reached him, he had just finished unwarding the earth so that it would release the wand."

The headmaster frowned. "This is a distressing development, Severus. If Accio will not work on the wand then perhaps, neither will Priori Incantatem."

"Agreed, Headmaster. The variant of the potion Draco used prevents anyone but a Malfoy from using the wand or applying magic to it."

"So the wand can't exonerate Draco?" Harry sighed. "If he's the only one who can cast Priori Incantatem . . . the Aurors won't trust the results. Or . . . well I suppose Lucius Malfoy could cast it but we're hardly about to trust him . . ."

"A sticky situation," Dumbledore concurred.

Harry looked towards where his father stood with his arms crossed. "They why did you say the wand might be of some use?"

"The headmaster at times has a sixth sense . . ." Snape murmured in reply.

"Unfortunately, I can get no sense of who may have handled this," the headmaster said, shaking his head. "I can't even detect you or Dobby, let alone the conspirators. It is as Harry said . . . this wand now simply resonates Malfoy."

Frustrated, Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. "Why did Draco have to mess about with that potion!"

"If he had not," Snape reminded the boy, laying a hand on his shoulder, "his wand would disgorge Corpus Aqueous and serve as key evidence against him."

"So you are defending his dabbling, are you, Severus?"

"No," Snape answered, his tone short. "He will most definitely be punished, and I will take greater care which books I leave within reach of my sons."

"Hey, I didn't do anything--"

One look from Snape, and Harry fell silent.

Albus Dumbledore took the scene in, his blue eyes steady as though in deep contemplation.

"What?" Harry pressed.

Dumbledore coughed ever so slightly, then popped a lemon sherbet into his mouth. For just a second, Harry wondered if the headmaster's deep pockets were charmed to constantly supply them. Then the man spoke, and Harry forgot all about sweets.

"When Severus instructed you to go sit with your brother, I rather expected you not to appreciate the phrase, all things considered."

Snape shifted on his feet. "Albus, I told you some time ago that I--"

"Yes, yes, I know what you told me, Severus," the headmaster interrupted. "You were rather vehement on the topic, as I recall. That says nothing about what Harry feels."

"I think you heard how I feel about Draco," Harry dryly murmured. Then a memory took hold of him . . . the headmaster, insisting Harry explain why he wanted to be adopted. "Is this more strategy for the war?" he suddenly asked. "You're trying to figure out if Draco being my brother is an asset or a liability? Or maybe you already think you know, since you did call him exactly that!"

"It should not startle you that I was dismayed by the report your friends delivered. And then to see your eye . . ." Albus Dumbledore lifted his shoulders. "I perhaps overreacted. At that moment it seemed quite likely that Mr Malfoy had gone completely mad and could very well have pushed Miss Parkinson to her death."

Harry got that, sort of, but it didn't help him feel a whole lot better. "Are you apologising?" he pressed. "For assuming he did it? Because I think Draco's the one you should apologise to!"

A kindly look, that time. "I already did, when you and Severus disappeared into the potions lab to arrange for his wand to disgorge Petrificus."

So the headmaster knew already all about Harry's hex-breaking abilities? Harry noted that, but went right back to the topic uppermost in mind. "If you apologised then why was Draco practically in tears when we got back to the bedroom?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I thought it best he understood a few facts about expulsion. The Ministry cannot charge him, let alone convict and imprison him, without a certain amount of proof. This works to our advantage, assuming we can outwit those who actively seek to manufacture evidence against him. However, expulsion is an entirely different matter. Hogwarts is a private institution. Students are permitted to remain entirely at the pleasure of the Board of Governors. Any student can be summarily expelled at any time for any reason whatsoever."

"Or no reason at all," Snape added.

"I thought . . ." Harry frowned. "Severus made some threats to expel Ron. I thought teachers were in charge of deciding that?"

"Teachers may make a recommendation to expel; the final decision is up to the headmaster, after which parents can appeal the decision to the Board if they wish. All of this is spelled out in the school's charter, Harry. The Board can also move to expel a student. Draco will be allowed to present a defence, but should the Board proceed with the expulsion, there is no right of appeal."

"Not even to the Ministry?"

"Hogwarts is a private institution," the headmaster repeated. "We are subject to educational edicts as I am sure you recall, but the expulsion of an individual student is not a Ministry matter."

"What if the Ministry passed a new charter saying it was?"

"Do you seriously want Fudge deciding who is entitled to a magical education and who is not?" Snape challenged. "Or, Merlin forbid, some idiot determined to promulgate a pureblood aristocracy? All the half-bloods and Muggleborns would find themselves summarily ejected from the school!"

"To think you once advocated that very thing," Dumbledore murmured.

"My son," Snape returned, "does not need to be reminded of that! He is well aware that when I was his age, I held decidedly different ideals and aspirations than I do now. He also knows how I came to understand the truth about wizarding lineage."

"Your son," Albus questioned, "or both of them?"

Snape waved an irritated hand. "I've discussed the matter with Draco as well. At length. He remains more prejudiced than I would prefer, but I understand the reasons for that."

"Draco's all right," Harry protested. "I mean, he used to think blood was everything, and now he says it isn't. He told Hermione she was clever, and he insisted that she be involved in my training so she could be prepared to help out if I get attacked when I'm back in class. And yeah, he's still stuck-up and all, but . . . well, he's all right, that's all . . . none of that is going to help him, is it? If the Board of Governors can expel at will . . ."

"They can. My fear is that Lucius will ensure that they will."

"Why don't they know better than to listen to the likes of him?" Harry erupted. "It's ridiculous! He tried his best to kill students at one point! And they've got to know he belongs in Azkaban. And he's spent months trying to get Draco kicked out of the castle -- don't you think this'll look just a little bit convenient, this whole frame-up?"

"I think Lucius has considered quite carefully how to proceed," Snape murmured. "Well, let's get on with it, shall we? Headmaster, Harry and I will need to speak with Remus Lupin at once. We witnessed the murder on a rather fascinating map, one I believe you have at least a passing familiarity with? Lupin may be able to shed some much-needed light on the entire incident."

Dumbledore narrowed his gaze. "Ah, the map Crouch had for a time." He glanced once at Harry. "Which you made good use of last year to outwit Dolores Umbridge."

"Yeah, thanks for returning it to me."

"What else could I do, given that you have so little of your father's?"

"It wasn't just his. Remus helped make it. So we have to talk to him about how it was made."

Dumbledore tapped his fingertips together, then glanced rather sternly over his half-moon spectacles. "Remus Lupin is occupied at present with Order matters. Vital Order matters, one might say. I would rather not disturb him."

"We most likely only need a few moments of his time, Headmaster," Snape said, the polite words a thin veneer over hard, determined tones.

"It is not a matter of time," Albus explained, turning his back on them to walk over to the couch and sink into it. He gestured for them both to be seated as well. Harry waited until his father took the cue, then followed suit. "What Professor Lupin is doing . . . well, let me just say that I would prefer he concentrate on it, and not on Hogwarts matters. And too, we should not forget that he had Miss Parkinson in class when he taught here. Yes, yes, far better to leave well enough alone and allow him to focus on his assignment."

"I somehow doubt," Snape drawled, "that Remus Lupin is going to be overcome with a paroxysm of grief that one Slytherin has died and another is accused. In point of fact, he detests both Draco and Pansy. He complained to me more than once that they both were unfailingly disrespectful to him, and insisted I intervene as Head of Slytherin." A thin smile curled Snape's lips. "Naturally, I refused. His lack of classroom management skills was his own problem."

Harry thought that entire speech was unfair, from the presumption that Remus would be uncaring about a Slytherin death to the information that Snape had been as unhelpful as possible towards his Gryffindor colleague. But since arguing those matters wouldn't help convince Dumbledore to put them in contact with Remus, he stayed silent.

Besides, his father had a real thing about respect, didn't he? Probably it was better all around to wait until they were alone before he called Severus an arse.

Dumbledore didn't go so far as to call Snape names, but he made it pretty clear he was thinking them. "Really, Severus!" he exclaimed, shaking his head in a theatrical way that actually called Draco to mind. "Slytherin or no, the young lady was his student, and I can't believe Remus Lupin so hard-hearted as to be completely unaffected by her tragic end. And to hear from your own lips that you aided your students to make his year here rougher than it need be! Moreover, when you knew full well that he was often weakened from his battles with the moon? For shame, Severus, for absolute shame."

"If he was too weak to be teaching, then he should not have been teaching!" Snape roared, the issue still obviously a sore point with him. A really sore point. In fact, such a sore point that his usual strategic demeanour had shattered.

"We don't have to tell Remus about Pansy dying," Harry rushed to say, both to give his father time to calm down and because it was true. "We just need to ask him how the map was put together, and what he knows about how it might have been fooled. That's it, really. We don't need to bring up Draco or Pansy at all."

"I'm afraid I really still must refuse."

"And why is that, Headmaster?" Snape challenged, leaning forward in a way Harry could only think of as predatory. Harry reared back almost instinctively, a bit unnerved even though he knew his father's anger wasn't directed his way.

"I have my reasons," Albus answered in a level voice.

"Do you doubt my discretion? Or Harry's? Perhaps it has escaped your memory that each of us is an expert Occlumens who has resisted Voldemort himself?"

"Stop this, Severus," the headmaster chided. "It's not a matter of trust or confidence. It's simply the way things must be."

"Must they?" Snape questioned, his tone by then acidic. "The way things must be . . . Yes, I recall that phrase. You use it whenever you know your actions to be indefensible. You told me that it was just the way things must be when you refused to discipline that mongrel Black for nearly feeding me to the damned werewolf!"

"Sirius Black was severely disciplined as you well know--"

"Three months of detention," Snape scoffed. "And now the way things must be just happens to mean that yet another Slytherin shall be sacrificed on the altar of keeping Remus Lupin safe and warm? If you think I will stand for it, you are gravely mistaken!"

"Yet another Slytherin . . . " Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I told you I was an angry young man, did I not?" Snape cast a brief glare his way. "What do you think made me that way, if not his determination that to avoid making Lupin's life difficult, my near-death could be overlooked?"

"Severus, you cannot blame those few Gryffindors for your own heinous mistakes--"

"Are you deaf?" the Potions Master coldly interrupted. "I believe I intimated that I blamed you."

Harry could see that this was going nowhere fast. "Look," he broke in, directing a pleading glance at Dumbledore. "We really do need to talk to Remus. It could mean the difference between freedom and Azkaban for Draco! And Severus has a point. I mean, you haven't even bothered to ask us why we think he could make that difference. All you can say is no, no, no."

"There are reasons, my boy . . . "

"We saw the murder as it happened, right there on the Marauder's Map," Harry stalwartly put forth, ignoring the bile almost rising up to choke him. His father had been right about needing to tell the headmaster everything, so Harry went ahead and explained. "We saw two people in the Owlery, only two . . . we saw Draco push Pansy straight out the window. But we know it didn't happen quite like that. Somebody else had to have been up there, somebody the map failed to show. And Remus can tell us how to find out who it was . . . or at least we hope he can. There's nobody else to ask, Professor Dumbledore! So let us ask him! Please!"

Dumbledore looked about as sorrowful as Harry had ever seen him. "I . . . I do understand your need, Harry. And I have listened. But I have more to consider than you can possibly realise. I must, I regret to say, refuse your request."

Harry's mouth dropped open. He'd been sure, so completely sure, that the headmaster would come around.

"Then I regret to say," Snape calmly countered, standing up as though to lend his words weight, "that I must tender my resignation effective immediately."

The headmaster stood up as well, his blue eyes all at once fierce and gleaming. "Oh yes, Slytherin to the core," he grated, clearly furious. "You know how much I need you--"

"What I know, in fact, is that you do not need me as much as formerly," Snape replied without much emotion.

"You may no longer be a spy but you are of inestimable value to the Light nonetheless--"

Snape appeared not to have heard a word. "Of course Potions Masters are difficult to engage, as so few of us wish to come within a thousand leagues of a school, but Hogwarts has the kind of reputation that will attract someone, I feel sure. Accio parchment," he announced with a flick of his wrist, no wand in sight. Then he was withdrawing from his robes a never-out quill. He stepped over to a table and bending over slightly, began to write.

"Severus, you are being ridiculous!"

Snape paused, lifting his quill off the parchment. "You do not understand," he remarked. "This is not petulance and it is most certainly not blackmail. Shall I outline the facts of the matter since they seem to escape you?" Standing up straight again, he turned to face the headmaster. "I will not see Draco unjustly confined in Azkaban. Lupin is the best hope we had. If you will not put us into contact so that we may exploit whatever advantage he can offer, I have no choice but to take other measures to protect my son. We will leave the country, Albus. I will use every last trick I learned as a spy to hide where no one from the Ministry can ever find us."

"Severus, I have told you that I will use my every influence to ensure that justice prevails--"

"Albus," Snape quietly broke in, his tone thrumming not with anger or malice any longer, but only with determination. "I know what you have told me. But you give me little cause to trust your intentions when you will not even do us the small courtesy of putting us in contact with Lupin."

Put your money where your mouth is, Harry thought. Put up or shut up.

"There," Snape said as he signed the resignation.

Albus clenched his hands when the Potions Master extended it with a slight flourish. "I do not accept it. You are under contract to Hogwarts."

"You may certainly sue me for breach of contract if you wish." Snape shrugged.

At that, Albus glared, and the resignation abruptly went up in flames. Snape dropped it before his fingers could become singed, then calmly stepped on the little conflagration with one booted toe. "Harry. I would prefer you come with Draco and myself but I leave the decision to you. Flight will mean you will likely not have the chance to properly complete your education--"

Harry stood up and walked to his father's side. He didn't actually know if Snape was bluffing, but then again, he didn't need to know. He was going to stand by his father and brother no matter what.

"I'm sure you can teach me anything I want," Harry said, looking up into Snape's dark eyes. "Actually, I'm sure you will teach me anything I need, and you'll make certain I learn it, too."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry," Dumbledore entreated. "What of the prophecy?"

For once, mention of it didn't fill him with despair, or worry . . . only with resolve. "The prophecy robbed me of a family once, sir. It's not going to do that to me again."

Snape grasped his hand briefly, then let it go to say, "If it is a prophecy, Albus, then I am sure it will come true. I don't believe we need to sacrifice Draco to it."

"I am not sacrificing Mr Malfoy. I am doing my best in a difficult situation!"

"As am I, Headmaster."

Harry cleared his throat. "Sir. Have you realised . . . you always call Draco Mr Malfoy? To you I'm Harry, and he's Severus, and I've heard you use first names with Ron and Hermione, too. But Draco's always Mr Malfoy. It's like . . . he is worth less to you than any of us."

"Oh, Harry . . ." Dumbledore sadly murmured. "There's a great deal at stake, here. More than you realise. But . . . very well. As you insist, I will arrange for you to speak with Professor Lupin tomorrow, or Monday at the very latest--"

"Tonight," Snape interrupted. "Now. This instant."

"Oh really, now that's unreasonable."

"It's not," Harry insisted. "By tomorrow the Aurors will be asking to talk to Draco. If we refuse, or even if we don't, they might charge him. We can't waste time. We have to know now what's going on with the map."

"Moreover," Snape added, "The moment they charge him, easy routes out of the country become more difficult to find. I will not delay, Albus. I will speak to Remus Lupin now, or I will collect my sons and leave. And the choice, as I am sure you have divined, is entirely yours."

Dumbledore glared at them both. "And you wonder why I had reservations about the adoption, Severus. The two of you make a formidable team, as I feared would happen."

"We will be a formidable team in your service if you will but allow us," Snape retorted.

"Oh, very well," Albus muttered, walking towards the fireplace and lowering himself to his hands and knees with a great show of creaking joints. Harry didn't buy it. He knew the headmaster could be as spry as he liked when it suited him.

Albus turned his head to glare at them one final time. "You can speak with him now, as you wish. But be it on your own heads if you don't much like what you find out."

"Is Remus hurt, is that what you mean?" Harry pressed as Snape snatched Floo powder from the mantle and held it out towards the headmaster. "Did the other werewolves turn on him or something?"

"Wolves," Albus scoffed. "Oh, he's been among the wolves, all right. A sheep in wolf's clothing, as it were." Tossing a bit of Floo powder in, he shouted, "Nombre Cinq, Rue Bois de Marseilles, Nîmes, France!"

As the headmaster thrust his head and torso into the fire, Harry turned to his father. "France? I thought he'd gone to Germany."

"France," Snape slowly repeated, dark undertones colouring the word black.

Before Harry could make sense of that, the headmaster backed up into the room again, rising shakily to his feet as he murmured, "Prepare yourselves for a shock . . . Ah, Harry. Might I have your wand for a moment?"

Harry glanced at his father, who answered, "I will hold it."

Shrugging, Harry passed it to Snape.

The headmaster clicked his teeth in irritation. "And who will hold yours, Severus?"

Snape's eyes gleamed a fierce black. "I do believe I can manage to control myself, Headmaster."

"What, you think I can't control myself?" Harry questioned, confused. Then, to Severus, "Dad?"

At that moment, the fire flared again and a tall, lean figure was stepping forth into the living room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. But it wasn't Remus Lupin who emerged from the flames.

It was Lucius Malfoy, his long blonde hair pulled back behind his shoulders, his grey eyes impassive as he looked at the wizards assembled to greet him. When his gaze settled on Harry, though, those eyes narrowed, a low hiss of noise escaping Lucius as all his features tightened with wrath.

He must have killed Remus, Harry thought, panic engulfing him. He forgot completely that the headmaster had brought him through, that the headmaster had demanded his wand . . . He even forgot about Fidelius, the spell that guaranteed Lucius could never, ever enter.

Harry forgot everything. All that mattered was that Lucius fucking Malfoy was standing there in his house, standing just feet away.

Harry couldn't help what happened next. Rage filled him, pure black rage like he'd only ever felt once before in his life, that time in Devon when he'd blasted the robe and mask. Of its own accord his hand jerked up, fingers splayed outward, fury building inside his belly, a fiery ache that had to be quenched--

"No!" Snape harshly whispered, grabbing his hand and yanking it down to his side, where he held it in a firm, warm grip that Harry couldn't shake. He pulled the boy in against his side, tucking Harry's face into his robes for good measure, similar to how he'd covered his eyes back in Devon to calm him down, and leaning down close urged, "A shock, remember? It's Lupin! The fool's gone and taken Polyjuice!"

"It's not Remus!" Harry screamed against the suffocating cloth as he struggled, Snape holding him back. "Remus wouldn't look at me like he hates me--"

"Harry, somebody's blacked your eye!" Remus pointed out, though he spoke with Lucius' characteristic snobbish lilt to every word. "If I look angry, it's because I don't much like what I see! Has Severus not been taking proper care of you, then?"

"You'll be lucky if I don't take proper care of you," Snape darkly muttered before glancing down at his son. "Harry, all right now?"

"Yeah," Harry croaked, but stayed huddled against his father. He could feel himself start to shake all over, a peculiar sort of trembling that started at his toes and quaked its way by fits and starts across every muscle in his body. "Oh, God. I think I'm going to sick up." And then when Snape made as though to reach inside his robes, "No, no draught. It'll pass."

Snape pulled him a little closer and rubbed his back as he grated, "To think you said I had no shame, Albus! The last time Harry saw this particular face and figure, he was having his eyes stabbed out--"

"No need to remind me," Harry gasped, gulping in some air.

Snape moved his fingers upward to stroke Harry's nape as though in apology for having mentioned it, but his tone was no less harsh when he spoke again to the headmaster. "I'd think you could have had the common decency to give us one word of warning, one word beyond prepare yourselves for a shock!"

"There wasn't time," the headmaster explained. "I'd hoped to find Remus out of character, so to speak, but as fate would have it . . ."

"There was time," Snape retorted, raising his voice. "All you needed was two seconds to say, By the way, Remus Lupin is the idiot who has been traipsing around the Pyrenees warning half-bloods and Muggleborns to escape before Voldemort can attack them. He's still on Polyjuice as we speak!"

"That would have taken considerably more than two seconds, Severus," Albus defended himself. "We needed to close the Floo connection as quickly as possible in case the fires were being watched. I would have told you in advance had I known for certain that Remus would be in this guise."

Hardly appeased, Snape growled, "Have you lost what little brain you used to possess, Lupin?"

"You're certainly as surly as ever," said Remus in Lucius Malfoy's voice. "Harry. What did happen to your eye?"

Harry chanced another glance then, and saw Lucius' silver eyes filled with things he'd never thought to see. Compassion. Caring. Concern. The sight so unnerved him that he immediately hid his face against his father's robes once more, and breathed in deeply the scent of clove and cinnamon that clung to them.

"Harry?" Remus questioned again.

"Oh, give him a minute, for the love of Merlin," Snape barked. "Shock doesn't even begin to cover it."

"No, I'm all right," Harry decided, pushing away. He was a little surprised when Snape resisted the move, but that only lasted a second; the Potions Master let him go.

Bracing himself, Harry looked "Lucius Malfoy" up and down. In one sense, he knew it was Remus. Snape believed it, and Dumbledore also, and there was no way in hell Lucius Malfoy would ever look at Harry with love in his gaze . . . but in another sense, it seemed like his emotions were slow to catch up to his mind. "What's the incantation to erase the Marauder's Map?" he demanded.

A genuine smile curled Malfoy's lips. "I think we've had this conversation before. You thought I was him," Remus indicated Snape with a wave. "And now you won't believe I'm me? 'Mischief managed', Harry. And the answer to the other question you asked me that time is 'Shrieking Shack.'"

"All right, you're you," Harry pronounced, though he still couldn't help but shudder. "Oh, God. No offence, but you look awful that way."

"I am very sorry it came as a shock." Now it was Remus who was glaring at Albus. "Severus is right. Once you saw that I was under the potion, you should have gone back and explained, and then asked me to floo through. How could you let Harry think Lucius Malfoy had stepped into his warded house, after what happened here in November?"

"Two Floo connections would have doubled the danger to you," Albus softly averred.

"Be that as it may, Headmaster," Snape rasped, "I rather think you were letting your irritation with Harry's defiance show."

"Harry, you've been defying the headmaster?" Remus pressed, stepping forward cautiously as if worried it might startle the boy.

"No," Harry answered, confused. "I don't know what he means." Then it came to him. "Oh, we'd all just had words and Severus threatened to quit his job and I said I'd rather go with him than stay at Hogwarts . . ."

"You idiot child," Snape quietly broke in. He glanced Remus over again, and sighed, then looked back down at Harry, his gaze softening even as he lamented, "You have absolutely no discretion."

Remus cleared his throat. Loudly. "Will someone kindly explain to me why Harry has such an awful black eye?"

It was Snape who answered with a casual wave, "That's right, you've only seen him the once since Samhain so you wouldn't realise. The bruising comes and goes, perfectly natural. Sometimes it's both eyes at once, Lupin." The Potions Master let loose a deprecating laugh. "You didn't think restoring his sight could proceed apace, did you? Every so often the injuries attempt to throw off the magic I've woven into the tissues. Things are slowly stabilising, however."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He didn't like lying to Remus, but neither did it seem like a good idea to admit that Draco had hit him. Look at how badly the headmaster had taken it, not to mention Ron and Hermione! "I went almost a month between black eyes this last time. If you ask me, I'm really lucky to have a Potions Master for a father. Nobody else could have done half as well to get me all healed up."

"I'm sure that's so," Remus commented, and then in much softer tones. "You do sound happy, Harry."

Harry gave a tremulous smile. He wished he could give a more enthusiastic one, but smiling up at Lucius' face was difficult to begin with, even though he knew Remus was inside. "You know, I am. I'm really happy, Remus. Severus is really good to me. Um, for me. I couldn't ask for a better father."

Remus just smiled in answer.

"All right, now that I've apparently passed your wizard parenting examination," Snape scorned, "perhaps you'd be so good as to answer my own question?"

"Question?"

"Have you lost what little brain you ever possessed?" shouted the Potions Master.

"Ah, that question." Remus walked to one of the easy chairs facing the couch and sank into it. "I suppose this is my cue to ask how you know about my activities in the Pyrenees?"

"Seer dream," Harry said, rubbing his temples. His head hurt just remembering, but somehow it hurt a little bit less when Snape urged him to sit down on the couch and then took a place right alongside. "I saw you in the recent past, though I didn't know it was the past and I didn't know it was you. I woke up and told Severus, who helped me pensieve the dream so we could really get a close look at it. We decided it wasn't a seer dream at all. I mean, we were sure Lucius Malfoy couldn't possibly be doing what he seemed to be doing!"

Harry thought Remus might be trying to look bemused, but with Lucius' features the expression came across as rather scornful instead. "Severus, you are a Potions Master. I refuse to believe you didn't consider Polyjuice."

"Oh, we considered it," Snape said, sounding like he was grinding his teeth. He probably was. Merlin only knew what it cost him to praise Remus for anything. "But the impersonation was so perfect, we discounted that explanation at once!"

Remus chuckled slightly. "It's your improved formulation. It does more than simply last longer at a stretch."

"I took it myself, you complete imbecile, so I know what it does and doesn't do, thank you!" Snape snapped. "It only improves the emulation of fine motor function, and primarily at a subconscious level at that!"

A memory suddenly washed over Harry: Frimley Park Hospital, Snape in Remus-guise at his side. Snape, signing Remus Lupin on the register, his handwriting exactly like Remus' script, which Harry had just seen on the letter Remus had sent him . . .

"It does not turn one into a master mimic!" Snape continued.

"It helps a great deal," Remus insisted. "And my experience in the theatre did the rest."

"Theatre?" Harry questioned.

"London, West End." The werewolf shrugged. "Small productions. Tiny, actually, and I was never more than an understudy, but I picked up a great deal of useful technique."

"Technique can only take you so far. An actor needs to study his subject," Snape snarled. "When did you ever have a chance to study Lucius bloody Malfoy at length?"

Remus stared at him as though simply waiting for the penny to drop.

Snape suddenly leaned back against the davenport, one hand raised to rub his own temples. "Oh, sweet Merlin. That year you taught, you went to all the Governors' meetings, every last one, and all the Hogwarts-Ministry joint functions . . ." His glance, disconcerted, sought out Albus. "Don't tell me . . ."

"It was why I hired him," Dumbledore revealed, finally sitting down as well. "Don't mistake me, Severus. Remus is a fine teacher and more than proficient in his area of expertise, but primarily, I invited him to Hogwarts so that he would have an opportunity to study Lucius Malfoy."

"Mmm, I wasn't about to be invited to any high-society dinners, you understand. Even before you told your students of my condition, I didn't have the sort of social standing that would grant me entry to Malfoy's circles. A professorship in the school his son attended seemed just the thing to allow me some contact with him."

Baring his teeth, Snape gritted, "Oh, and this is why you complained so incessantly to me of Draco's behaviour in class, why you none too subtly demanded I arrange a parent-teacher conference!"

"Draco Malfoy was intolerably rude; I did want a conference. I also wanted to study Lucius further. You did nothing but obstruct both goals!"

"Wait, wait!" Harry shouted to get their attention. "I'm confused. If you wanted a conference with Lucius Malfoy you could have just asked for one yourself."

"It's customary and polite to go through a student's Head of House," Remus explained.

"But you went to the Weasleys directly," Harry murmured, looking at his father. "When you were angry with Ron."

"As a courtesy to you," Snape explained. "I presumed you did not wish your friend to lose all standing with Professor McGonagall?"

He did have a point, Harry realised. "Okay, but what's this about studying Lucius? I mean, how could you have known way back then that Voldemort would even return, or that Lucius would be the one Death Eater you wanted to impersonate?"

Remus chuckled slightly. "Oh, Harry. The headmaster's plots go back much further than that. Why do you think I ever studied acting to begin with? You know me. You can't believe I'm possessed of any desire whatsoever to see my name in lights."

It took Harry a moment to process that. He glanced at the headmaster. "You knew before my . . . before James and Lily ever died, you knew that you would someday want Remus to . . . uh, infiltrate Voldemort's ranks?"

"Oh yes," the headmaster assured him. "Before you were ever born, Harry, that plan was being forged. You see, in concealing his werewolf nature so skilfully from the other students, Remus Lupin demonstrated a great untapped potential for acting. A potential I urged him to develop, so that when the time was right, the side of Light might benefit from it." Dumbledore nodded to himself. "He could have had his name in lights, Harry. If he was never more than an understudy it was because he abided by my request that he remain a relative unknown, that he linger in the theatre world purely to hone his craft." The headmaster turned his head towards Remus. "There were others I guided into more . . . heroic ways to help fight the war. Harry's parents. Severus, when he came to me. Tonks, whom I urged to join the ranks of the Aurors. And many others . . . But your years of silent labour count for no less than their efforts, I hope you realise, my dear boy."

Remus gave a slight nod, the gesture positively regal-looking on Lucius.

"But what made you think my third year was the 'right time,' then?" Harry pressed. "It wasn't until the Tournament that we knew for sure Voldemort would be back . . . oh, I get it." He shuddered slightly. "The Chamber."

"Precisely. Lucius Malfoy's mad bid to return Voldemort to life. For all I knew, his next attempt might well succeed. When, during the summer, the other Governors were insane enough to reinstate him with full honours, I decided I must start looking forward to the day when it might be possible to discredit him among the ranks of the Death Eaters. I hired Remus and gave him strict instructions to acquire as much contact as possible with Lucius."

"I'd intended to become great friends with Draco Malfoy," Remus confessed, taking up the thread of the story. "I had hoped to be invited to dine at Malfoy Manor, something like that, study the man in his own element. But that plan proved unworkable. And why was that, Severus? Can you guess? Could it be because you poisoned the boy's mind against me well before our first class together?"

"I . . ." Snape abruptly closed his mouth.

"Ah well." Kind as ever, Remus let him off the hook. "It's also true that I had recognised Harry on the train, and after that I had a difficult time tolerating the young Slytherin so intent on making James' son miserable. Observing Draco at close range, however, did help me learn quite a few Malfoy mannerisms. The boy really is quite like his father."

"No, he isn't," Harry quietly disagreed.

Remus pursed his lips at that, but said nothing further on the topic, instead detailing, "The only flaw in the headmaster's long-range plan was the fact that Polyjuice in and of itself was so limited. Until a formulation was made that could help my acting bridge the gulf between Lucius and myself, there was little hope of putting our plan into action. We knew my impersonation would have to be flawless to pass muster . . . But then you improved the Polyjuice Potion, Severus . . ."

Snape's nostrils flared, which told Harry all too clearly that that had been no accident. Dumbledore had demanded a better version of the potion, and Snape had laboured to produce one. "It's a bit of a daft plan to discredit Lucius Malfoy by having him help Voldemort's victims at a time when Lucius could quite reasonably claim to have been at a meeting of the Board of Governors! Voldemort has heard of Polyjuice, Lupin!"

"He's also heard of Apparition," Remus mildly returned. "Lucius can get to France and back in the blink of an eye, and all my 'appearances' were carefully timed. And too, if Polyjuice began to be suspected, it was just as likely for the Death Eaters to wonder if the real Lucius was in France while a Malfoy-trained decoy sat in on meetings at Hogwarts. Besides, Severus, the plan at present hasn't been so much to convince the Death Eaters of Lucius' disloyalty as it is to simply sow discord and dissention in their ranks. Rumours of a blond aristocratic man issuing warnings . . . the Death Eaters arriving at targeted houses only to discover them abandoned. You've told Albus of the infighting. We hoped to capitalise on it, perhaps leaving an impression that Lucius had plans of his own, ones that might not coincide with his lord and master's."

Harry sat up a little bit straighter, and said in an over-loud voice, "Wow, Remus. It sounds to me like you've been doing a job that's both important and dangerous. And you've been dedicating yourself to this job for how many years? Since the first war, is that right?"

"Idiot child," Snape muttered.

"Well, you said he wasn't doing anything to help, and he was, learning acting and all that," Harry declared. "I bet he wasn't even very keen on it. He did it for the Order. He even knew back then that he was learning it so that he could eventually impersonate some Death Eater or other, so he knew how dangerous it was all going to get, and he still plunged ahead. Now that's brave."

"Quiet, Harry. I've no need of Severus' approbation after all this time," Remus said with a smile that looked all wrong on Malfoy's face.

"Just as well," Snape growled. "I don't hand out certificates of merit for fool Gryffindor stunts. To my mind this whole enterprise qualifies as one. And how dangerous has it been, really? I don't expect you've been in the Dark Lord's own presence trying to ferret out his secrets, have you?"

A strand of Lucius' hair fluttered as Remus shook his head. "No, Severus. Indeed I have not. You remain the bravest man I know."

"But you would do it if you could, I bet," Harry pressed. "Right? If there was a way. I mean, if Lucius somehow disappeared and we knew he wouldn't ever surface, then you'd take his place and spy for the Order just as Severus did--"

"You'd be asking him to kill people," Snape harshly pointed out. "I rather doubt Lupin has the stomach for it."

"As Lucius Malfoy is not likely to hand us such an opening," the headmaster broke in, "I suggest we not discuss the ifs of the situation."

"Good idea," Harry announced, taking a deep breath to steel himself. What he had to say . . . well, his father wasn't too likely to appreciate it. But he had to say it anyway. "Um, Severus. Dad, I mean. You owe Remus an apology for thinking him weak and spineless and all the rest. He's not. I'd think you'd have to admit that, now."

Remus shook his head. "I've no wish to come between you, Harry. Let's not make an issue of it, any of it."

"Hey, he makes me apologise when I've been insufferably rude," Harry protested.

"He is the parent," Remus replied, still shaking his head. "It's not your place to raise him, Harry."

"Yes," Dumbledore echoed, though his tone was decidedly more . . . Slytherin than Remus' had been. And wasn't that strange, considering that Remus was speaking through Lucius Malfoy's vocal cords? "Severus is a grown man, Harry, an adult. Now, if he is not mature enough to admit to his own errors, that is his affair. It is entirely inappropriate for you to rebuke your father as though he's still in nappies, no matter that his conduct does rather suggest him to be little more than a toddler at heart--"

"Enough!" Snape roared. He glared at Harry, clearly blaming him for starting this, but the boy just stared back, challenging him to be the adult this time.

The Potions Master curled a disgusted lip. "You and I will have to have yet another talk about respect, I see."

"I do respect you," Harry declared. "It's just . . . I'd respect you more if you could look past your anger to see the man he really is. How many times did you tell me to stop judging Draco by his past mistakes? Well, same goes for you. Remus isn't the boy who sat there and did nothing while James was being an idiot! He's grown past that!"

Snape looked like he'd just love to throttle Harry, and then Remus, and then probably the headmaster for good measure. All he did though, was cast one derisive glance at the werewolf and gruffly admit, "I'm . . . satisfied you weren't killed pursuing this insane plot, Lupin. And that's as much apology as you're ever likely to get."

"Oh, very nice," Harry said in a scornful tone, but he decided to shut up when Snape's glare became almost volcanic.

"Now, if we've quite finished dealing with Lupin's bizarre appearance," Snape growled, appearing to be speaking to no one in particular, "I suggest we discuss the matter for which we needed him in the first place!"

"The Marauder's Map," Harry said, nodding. "Somebody knows how to make sure they don't show up on it. We thought you might know how to manage a trick like that?"

Remus furrowed his brow, the expression looking very odd on Lucius' features. "We experimented with a few spells and charms, but we couldn't get any of them to work properly. Some of them caused an awful skin rash, actually."

"Madam Pomfrey would have the records?"

"No, we treated ourselves," Remus admitted, a small smile curling his lips at what was obviously a fond memory. "We gave up all attempt to fool the map after a while. It got old breaking out in pustules."

Harry couldn't help but make a face at the sound of that.

"Oh, a quick charm would do away with them, for the most part," Remus assured him. "In the end we concluded that the map could not be fooled. We never even came close."

"So, will you be leaving the country after all, Severus?" Albus challenged with a bit of a haughty look. "As Remus has been unable to help you?"

"The salient point was your unwillingness to help us," Snape retorted. "Lupin. I'd like you to write down everything you can remember about the magic that went into making the map work in the first place. Everything. Conversation is well and good but I'd like a written record, and I'd like you to sign it."

Harry wondered if his father was set on having one for legal reasons. What if Remus were to get killed during his mission in France? To help Draco, they might need to be able to prove things about the map . . .

Remus nodded, then immediately went on, "Though I must tell you from the outset that the true credit must go to James and Sirius. It only stands to reason. They had such talent with magic that they taught themselves to become Animagi."

"As did Pettigrew," Snape spat. "How much would he know about the creation of the map?"

Remus thought that over carefully before he answered. "Oh, very little, I should imagine. He was always hanging about, but he hardly participated at all in the casting of the magic. It would be like learning to brew from books, without any practical experience, Severus. Besides, James and Sirius were very synergistic in their approach to magic. I would get lost watching them at times and I was paying closer attention than Peter."

"But you will write out what you know?" Snape rapped out, so insistent on it that Harry was suddenly sure of one thing: his father was aware that Remus' assignment was highly dangerous.

"Yes, of course," Remus said, staring at each wizard in turn. "So what's all this about?"

"Ah, I'm afraid that information is on a need-to-know basis, my boy," Albus soothed, standing up and walking to the Floo, where he beckoned to Remus to join him. "And you most definitely do not need to know. I need you back in France continuing your work, which is dangerous, little though Severus seems to realise as much. You mustn't fret about the goings on at Hogwarts; we have them well in hand."

"Harry's not in any trouble, though?"

"Harry's not the one we're concerned about, not this time. Now, you just go back and gather your things and move on to the next safe house set up for you. You know the one I mean? Good. And write your recollections of the map straight away; you know how to get them to me, that's my boy--"

"Why do I have the feeling I'm being shooed away? I could stay here to write--"

"Oh, no, no, certainly not," Albus insisted. "We have several other things to do in connection with solving the issue that brought you here. And time is of the essence. So, if you could simply say your good-byes to Harry and be off?"

Remus held out his arms and smiled.

Harry couldn't move into them, though, he just couldn't. "I . . . Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I know who you are, but looking the way you do just now . . . no. I hope I see you again, Remus. If my last memory of you is wearing his body . . . ugh."

"I understand, Harry," Remus softly answered. "Severus, take good care of him."

Snape lifted his chin. "I do, Lupin."

"Yes, I can see that you do." Sighing, Remus stepped into the Floo and took a pinch of powder. "Good-bye, then."

And then he was shouting out his address in Nîmes, shouting it in French.

Harry turned to his father. "But . . . the dream . . . if Remus knows French why wouldn't he be speaking it as he goes about his assignment?"

"He doesn't know enough French to pull that off," Snape scorned. "Certainly not the old French Malfoy loves to show off. Lupin wouldn't seem fluent, which would put a quick end to any impersonation. It seems his acting training didn't include a proper course of languages!"

"Actually," Dumbledore put in, "it did. But there are times when he wants to make it appear as though Lucius is attempting to cover his tracks."

"Misdirection," Harry breathed.

Snape shot him a glare. "From a Gryffindor? Please."

"Such venom," Albus commented, his own tone mild. "I'd think you'd be delighted to know that contrary to your every complaint over the past . . . oh, I've lost count of the years, now isn't that a testament to how old I'm getting . . . at any rate, I'd think you'd be quite pleased to realise that Remus Lupin is not only pulling his weight, as you have so often demanded, but has been so doing for a long, long time?"

Stomping over to the Floo to stare down at the shorter headmaster, Snape rasped, "Perhaps in the confusion of Harry thinking Lucius Malfoy had come to gouge out his eyes once more, you missed our discussion of the seer dream, you doddering old fool? Harry came to me with foreknowledge of the Owlery, and we concluded his dream had no prophetic nuance! And why, I ask you? Because you failed to mention to me that Remus Lupin was going about France masquerading as a Death Eater, perhaps?"

"I hardly thought you needed to know a detail like that."

"Oh yes, your need-to-know justification!" Snape shouted. "I thought, as a highly valued --so you say-- senior member of the Order I would be kept apprised of important developments!"

"Ha." Harry knew it wasn't funny, not really, but he couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Now you know how I feel."

"In retrospect I see that it would have done you good to know, Severus," Dumbledore admitted. "However, before you grow too enraged, consider the fact that you never told me about this seer dream. Had you, I would have realised at once that it was indeed accurate and told you so."

"But you still wouldn't have told me about Lupin!"

"No, likely not."

Snape gnashed his teeth.

"You lied to Remus Lupin just now about the reason for Harry's black eye," the headmaster pointed out. "What was that but misdirection?"

"I hardly needed him furious with Draco," Snape retorted.

By then, Harry had heard enough. He knew from long experience that there was no winning this argument, but it was good that Snape had an inkling how he felt. Actually, though, Snape had indicated his empathy on the issue a long time ago. You do better with more information rather than less . . . a notion the headmaster is beginning to appreciate, as well . . .

Well, Harry wasn't sure at all that Dumbledore was beginning to appreciate that. What he was sure of was that his brother was waiting for them. "Draco," Harry urged. "Can't we go now, to Devon? He must be in an awful state, wondering what the Aurors have been told, wondering what's going to happen to him."

"Yes, to Devon," Snape agreed, nodding, opening up his arms in invitation, offering to absorb for Harry the worst of the awful impact of Apparition.

Harry went into them without a word, but just before they Apparated away, it occurred to him to ask, "Do you think when I see the real Lucius Malfoy again someday, I'm . . . uh, I'm going to freeze up like that?"

"You didn't 'freeze up,'" his father assured him, pulling him closer against the warmth of his body. "You would have attacked had I not stopped you, and had you had your wand . . ."

"Yeah," Harry groaned, realising he could very easily have killed Remus. His father had been right; he did need to work on his self-control. He couldn't bear to be responsible for the death of another loved one. "Thanks," he sighed, rubbing his cheek against the soft, fragrant fabric covering his father's chest. "Just . . . thanks."

Albus Dumbledore coughed slightly. "Shall we? Harry is right; Mr Malfoy . . . Draco, that is, will be impatient to know what has transpired during his absence."

Harry pushed away slightly so that he could look up at his father. "I don't suppose we're going to tell him what Remus has been doing, settle that dream for him once and for all?"

The Potions Master shook his head.

"Need-to-know basis, Severus?" the headmaster lightly gibed. "And you marvel that I have had to make similar determinations in the past. Do you realise how important Lupin's mission could turn out to be? Do you--"

"Yes, Headmaster, I do," Snape affirmed, his tone harsh. "What you fail to understand is that as I am these days fully embroiled in every last nuance of Harry Potter's life, I need to know every last detail you can dredge up! I expect to be kept informed of Lupin's progress, is that clear, Albus?"

"And I expect the same!" Harry declared, only to find himself on the receiving end of Snape's fierce glower.

"You are not an adult and you are not an Order member. You are not even a fully trained wizard." He lowered his voice. "Besides, you told me that you wanted to know what it was to be a child. You just told Lupin that I was a good father. Are you now going to resist my honest attempt to be that for you?"

Harry thought about that, and sighed. "All right, I understand what you're saying. But just make sure you're a good father to Draco too, all right? Because . . . look, I don't claim to know what he needs, but I'm pretty sure that ten million lines or thousands of points off Slytherin is just going to make him feel resentful."

"Thousands of points off Slytherin," the Potions Master mocked. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Harry admitted. "Let's go. He's probably climbing the walls by now."

"Not likely."

"What, because Draco's got such a calm personality?"

"No, because I gave him a Calming Draught," Snape averred. "Hold tight now so you won't need the same."

Closing his eyes, Harry hugged his dad as the whole world around them melted.