Minerva glanced at the clock on the mantle for the thirty-second time since lunch. It read 4:14. . . .precisely two minutes later than the last time she looked. She took off her glasses and rubbed tired, itchy eyes. With her eyes closed at that moment, she didn't see the parchment ‘airplane' that swooped into her office and hovered inches from her nose, so she was understandably startled when she reopened her eyes to see something blurry fluttering in her face. With a unladylike squawk, she reared back, nearly upending her chair in panic. She blinked at the hovering item and scowled.

"Really, Filius!" she scolded, snatching the note from the air. "You don't have to scare the piss out of a person!"

With a petulant frown, she opened and scanned the note. She sighed worriedly, then turned the parchment over and scribbled on the back of it.

I have no idea what could be delaying him! Maybe he hasn't received my letter yet.

I got another floo call from Pomona a while ago - she still had nothing alarming to report. Harry has been inside most of the day: she only saw him once when he came out to wash the front windows. She was predictably upset to see him forced to work so hard, but says he looked well enough. He didn't appear to be in any particular distress. The two male Dursleys went off somewhere in their automobile, so at least they aren't around to torment the child. Pomona thinks something is afoot: it seems like the family is preparing for some special occasion, she says. Nothing else to report.

What do you think we should do?

MM

She refolded the parchment into its flying form, tapped it once with her wand, and watched it zoom out of the window. It wasn't but a few minutes before the airborne memo returned.

I suppose we are doing all we can. I'll remain here however long it takes. (Perhaps you would be so kind as to ask one of the house elves to bring me afternoon tea? I haven't eaten since elevenses.)

Let me know if the situation in Surrey changes. I'll send you a note as soon as Severus arrives - which hopefully will be soon.

FF

Minerva wrote back.

Will do.

Then she sent the memo on its way and called for a house elf. When the creature appeared, Minerva forwarded Flitwick's request. The elf nodded happily, not questioning why the Charms Professor required his tea to be served out on the dusty road from Hogsmeade. She, like most of the Hogwarts house elves, was especially fond of the tiny professor, and popped out instantly, delighted to attend him.

Minerva shoved her paperwork aside, too edgy to continue. She simply couldn't concentrate any longer. She stood up from her chair and crossed to the fireplace, brooding. She didn't know who she was more worried about at this point - Harry or Severus. She knew she needed to relax a bit. . . worrying only tired her, and she needed to conserve her energy for later, when things might get a bit dodgy. Without hesitation, she chose to do the one thing that always relaxed her the most. With a brief shimmer, she transformed, and leapt up onto the comfy rocker by the fire. She stretched languidly, enjoying the suppleness of her feline form that spared her the aches and pains of an aging body.

There's nothing like a good catnap to soothe the nerves.

She curled up in contentment and dozed off quickly, confident in her catlike reflexes to awake her immediately if she was needed.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Filius Flitwick glanced at Minerva's terse reply and settled back to continue his mission. He had taken up a position behind a small hedge of holly bushes near the lane, where he could observe the road clearly without being noticed by anyone who happened to pass by. When the first hour of waiting for the Potions Master had gone by, Filius had decided to improve his surroundings. A boulder had been transformed into a cozy arm chair, precisely the right size for his diminutive form. A tree stump became a handsome side table, and another stone made a comfy foot stool. The adventure novel he was reading was already in his pocket when he arrived. Someone less patient might have been annoyed by the long hours spent waiting. But though he was somewhat concerned over Severus' delay, Filius didn't mind the boring wait. He simply saw no need for that wait to be unnecessarily uncomfortable.

When the house elf popped into view before him, Filius cleared the side table for the tray of tea and sandwiches she carried. "Thank you so much, Tinker," he acknowledged cheerfully. "This is perfect - just the thing!"

Tinker beamed at him. "If the Professor needs anything else, please call for Tinker! Tinker most happy to serve!"

"I will be sure to do so," Flitwick smiled at her. "For now, all I ask is that you not mention my current location to anyone else."

"As the Professor wishes, of course!" Tinker agreed eagerly. "Tinker would never discuss the good Professor Charming's private business."

Flitwick chuckled at the house elves' pet name for him. "You are a credit to your kind, dear Tinker! Thank you."

The little house elf blushed happily at his praise, then popped out of view again. Flitwick poured himself a steaming cup of tea and nibbled at a sandwich. He contentedly picked up his novel and turned to the next chapter, where the story had just begun to get exciting.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

When the green flames in the fireplace flared up, the tabby cat on the rocker swiftly transformed. "Pomona!" Minerva greeted the stout Professor. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, yes," Pomona nodded, stepping through and brushing off her robes. "Everything is fine. It appears the Dursleys are entertaining guests for dinner. . . another couple arrived a while ago. I gather it must be an important event. I haven't seen Harry for several hours, but the Muggles are dressed to the nines, and the older ones fawned all over their guests when they arrived."

"Ah," Minerva nodded. "Well, that is a relief. That explains the preparations you observed." She studied the Herbology Professor with concern. "You look tired, Pomona."

Sprout shrugged and sighed wearily. "It does get a bit tedious, sitting about in the shrubbery while the Muggles are amusing themselves inside," she confessed.

"Why don't you take a break, my dear?" Minerva suggested.

"Do you think that's wise?" Pomona asked doubtfully.

"I'm sure it is. If the Muggles are entertaining, they will no doubt be too preoccupied to trouble poor Harry," Minerva decided. "Why don't you go down to supper, and perhaps take a brief rest after?"

"I'll admit, supper does sounds good - I am a bit peckish," Pomona admitted. "But are you sure Harry will be all right? I don't want to desert the child."

"I expect he will be fine," Minerva replied. "I wouldn't imagine even Muggles as vulgar as the Dursleys would mistreat the boy in front of visitors. I'm sure he'll be safe for a while."

"All right - if you think it best," Pomona agreed gratefully. "No word from Snape yet, I take it?"

"Not yet. If he hasn't arrived in an hour or two, you can return to Surrey - or perhaps change places with Filius, if you prefer. He's still outside the gates, waiting for Severus."

"I'll do that," Pomona decided as she headed for the door. "Seven hours in that Muggle neighborhood is rather a strain," she shuddered slightly. "I can't imagine how that poor boy endures it."

"It is depressing," Minerva agreed grimly. "When I returned from there last night, all I wanted was a long hot bath."

"Oooh - that sounds rather lovely," Pomona agreed at the door, her tired eyes lighting up. "I believe I'll do just that, right after I've had a bit of a nosh. I'll be back in a few."

"Take your time, dear," Minerva reassured her. "I'm sure Harry will be fine for a few hours."

When Pomona left, Minerva crossed back to her desk and returned to the ever-present stack of paperwork. She was still worried about Severus' delay, but not unduly concerned about little Harry.

It's only an hour or two, after all. . .what could possibly happen in so short a time?

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Harry had no idea what had possessed him to run upstairs. He supposed he had just panicked. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have run out the front door and been halfway out of Surrey by now. But the chaos in the lounge had been so sudden and frenzied, Harry hadn't really thought at all - he simply ran.

When he had reached his room, he instantly realized his mistake. He was trapped, with no possible escape. Still reacting on sheer terror, he had glanced around the small room that contained no effective hiding place - then, out of pure desperation, he had dove under the bed. In retrospect, of course, he knew it was a serious error in judgment. It was, in fact, probably the dumbest thing he could have done. But hindsight was rarely useful.

As he had lain there, huddled under the bed and gasping for breath, he had heard the commotion continue below him. Mr. Mason had carried on bellowing his outrage as he escorted his petrified wife out to the car, while Vernon babbled excuses incoherently, blathering "So sorry!" "Just our nephew!" "Very disturbed - strangers upset him!" His Aunt had been too shocked to contribute, and had merely stood frozen, while a snickering Dudley hid behind her.

The last glimpse Harry had of poor Mrs. Mason, she was still trembling and shrieking, batting her arms hysterically around her head - even though the Ministry owl had swooped out of the room several minutes prior. Harry had been futilely trying to clean Aunt Petunia's prized pudding off the kitchen floor where the demented house elf had dumped it. His Uncle Vernon had savagely wrapped one meaty hand around his neck, the other clutching the notice from the Ministry of Magic. Only Vernon's frantic desire to try and salvage the horrid situation had prompted him to momentarily release Harry and follow his guests out. Harry had seized that moment to race upstairs.

As soon as Harry was under the bed he had felt totally ridiculous - like some little kid too stupid to realize it was the most obvious of hiding places. Still, his ploy had almost worked. His uncle and cousin were both so fat that bending over to look under things wasn't a comfortable option. . .he doubted Dudley had seen under his own bed for years. Harry had curled up as far under the bed as he could, shivering in dread when Uncle Vernon stomped upstairs and thundered into his room, tearing open the wardrobe, throwing things about and roaring Harry's name. When he had stormed back out to search the rest of the upstairs, Harry had the faint hope he might escape the inevitable. Vernon would have to give up the search and go to bed eventually, he had reasoned, and when he did, Harry might be able to sneak down the stairs and outside. Where he would go from there, Harry never had time to contemplate. Aunt Petunia, who had by now recovered from her shock, had no trouble at all bending over and glaring at him in his dubious refuge.

"Vernon! He's here!" she had shouted coldly. Then she had left the room, clearly indifferent to the violence that would follow.

Harry coiled in a fetal position and shivered under his thread-worn sheet. He supposed his trousers and pants were still on the floor somewhere, where Vernon had thrown them when he tore them off of Harry, but he was too stiff and sore to move, much less go looking for them. His uncle had never thrashed him on the bare before, although he had, on a few humiliating occasions, made him take down his trousers (which was almost as bad, since his pants were so thin). But he had never whipped him as viciously as he had this night. Harry's thighs and bum throbbed in agony; even the thin sheet stung painfully where it touched his battered skin.

For the first time since he was a very small child, Harry had been unable to keep silent and hold back his tears during one of his uncle's punishments. He burned with shame, remembering his own whimpers and pathetic pleading as the belt came down again and again. He wondered if the leather had sliced his tender flesh, but he feared to check. He was afraid if he found blood, it would only make everything seem even worse and he would start crying again. He was too tired to cry any more. . .his head pounded and his nose was all stuffed up. He had no tissues so he could only sniffle and rub at his itchy, burning eyes. In all his miserable life, he couldn't remember ever feeling more hopeless and mortified.

You're such a pathetic baby! Sniveling and begging like some little kid! Stupid! Weak! Gutless freak!

He chided himself bitterly, ashamed of his weakness. He should never have bawled like that - never begged his uncle to stop. . .it only made it worse - he knew that! He'd survived enough sessions with his uncle's belt to know crying only made Vernon beat him harder.

Why did you have to carry on like that? Some hero you are! You face down a troll - even Voldemort himself - but you fall all to pieces over a little thrashing! You don't deserve to call yourself a Gryffindor!

This was the part that hurt the most. . .even more than the whipping and his own cowardice. He wasn't a Gryffindor - not any more. Vernon had made that dreadfully clear. He had read the warning the Ministry owl had brought about underage magic.

"Not allowed to use magic outside of school? You didn't tell us that, did you freak?" Vernon had screeched at him while the belt whistled through the air, smashing down over and over. "Forgot to mention it - slipped your mind, did it? Well, I've got news for you, boy. . .I'm locking you up for good! They won't get a chance to expel you, cause you're never going back to that school! You hear me? Never! And if you try to magic yourself out - if you ever do any of that freakish stuff again - you won't live to boast about it! I won't put up with your shifty ways any more - I'll not have that unnatural business in my house!"

Harry knew Vernon would keep his vow. He'd never let Harry return to school now. He wasn't sure how the man could stop him, but he'd find a way. No matter what Dumbledore said - no matter what anyone in the wizarding world did - the Dursleys were his legal guardians. They could do whatever they wanted to with him. If they refused to send Harry back to Hogwarts, he didn't think there was anything anyone could do about it.

It was all over. Harry knew this. A life of nothing but misery lay before him. He was stuck with the Dursleys until he turned eighteen and could move out on his own. It was only six more years - but when you're twelve, six years might as well be a lifetime.

I wish I'd never heard of Hogwarts - or magic - or any of it! If I'd never gone to Hogwarts, I couldn't miss it. If I didn't know what I'd lost, it wouldn't hurt so much. I wish I could forget. . .I wish I wasn't a wizard. . . I wish I was dead.

These morbid, desolate thoughts revolved in his mind until exhaustion and torment finally took him and he drifted off into a uneasy doze.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

In the end, Flitwick had chosen to remain at his post while Sprout flooed back to Surrey. It wasn't that Filius minded going to Surrey, but he wanted to talk to Severus as soon as he arrived. . .assuming he ever did. He had some thoughts about how to solve the problem of Harry Potter that he wanted to discuss with the Potions Master as soon as possible.

Minerva had been at her wits end. She was on the verge of giving up waiting for Snape and going to retrieve Harry herself, but Pomona and Filius had managed to convince her to be patient a little longer. After a two hour break to eat, rest, and clean up, Pomona had gone back to the Dursleys' house for a quick reconnoiter. She immediately reported that all seemed to be quiet there. The dinner guests' vehicle was gone, the curtains were all drawn, and all the lights in the home were out when she surveyed the place. Since it was past nine, they assumed the Dursleys must have gone to bed early.

"You might as well return to Hogwarts and get some sleep," Minerva had finally told Pomona. "There's not much point in staring at a dark house."

Pomona had gratefully accepted the suggestion, for she was by habit an early riser and was used to retiring early. Filius opted to remain where he was. He was a bit of a night owl himself, and didn't mind waiting for Severus for a while longer.

"I'm afraid you are wasting your time," Minerva complained morosely. "I think if Severus had gotten my letter, he would have returned long before now."

"Perhaps. . ." Filius shrugged. "But it's possible he simply hasn't received it yet - he may have been tied up all day at the conference. It's early yet - let's give him another hour or two. If he hasn't shown up by midnight, I'll come back and sleep a while, then pop off to Surrey to take the next watch."

Minerva had reluctantly agreed and stayed in her office, determined to pass the long hours of night working. She was by now too restless and anxious to sleep, and knew she could always rely on one of her ‘catnaps' if she grew tired.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Severus clutched a bronze medallion in one hand and a rolled, beribboned certificate in the other as he hurried across the crowded lobby. Nodding distractedly at the calls of greeting and congratulations that followed him across the room, he bullied his way through the throng at the reception desk with intimidating glares and sneers.

When the harried clerk noticed his approach, she waved at him in clear agitation. "Oh - Professor Snape! Thank Merlin - you have a post, sir!"

Severus held out his hand impatiently, waiting for his mail.

"Uhm. . . th-there's a slight problem, sir," she stammered apologetically.

"Problem?" Severus scowled menacingly.

"The post is warded. The owl that delivered, sir . . . uhm. . . he won't let anyone remove the envelope," she explained. "He's through there, sir." She pointed at a closed door beside the front desk.

"Very well," Severus replied calmly. "Please prepare my statement. I wish to check out immediately."

"Yes, Professor. Your account was settled by Hogwarts in advance. I'll print you a receipt and have it ready for you when you return."

Severus nodded and entered the side door, which led to a small administrative office. Ignoring the pair of clerks working at a counter, he quickly spotted the owl in question. It was perched on a file cabinet, glaring imperiously down at the nervous clerks. He recognized the huge owl as one from Hogwarts - the owl Minerva used exclusively for private messages - and he held his arm out. The owl fluttered down to his arm and hooted crossly at him, as if to say ‘Well, it's about time! I've been waiting ages for you.'

"I apologize, Archimedes," Severus muttered. "I was a bit tied up - lectures - wretched speeches - you can imagine," he rolled his eyes and Archimedes blinked at him as if he shared Severus' disgust. Severus removed the envelope from the bird's leg and searched his pockets. He wasn't in the habit of carrying owl treats in his robes, but he did manage to unearth a rather linty handful of mixed nuts he had absent-mindedly shoved in his pocket during one of the symposium's many receptions. "Sorry - it's all I have," he shrugged. Archimedes eyed the stale nuts dubiously, but finally selected a cashew, as if merely endeavoring to be polite. He leapt off Severus' arm and perched on a nearby stool to wait.

Severus opened the envelope and read the letter quickly, nodding to himself in satisfaction. Minerva's enigmatic message would likely have bewildered anyone except Severus. He could feel the ornament enclosed and he tilted the envelope, tipping the pendant into his open palm. He stared at it for a moment. He didn't recall ever seeing the pendant before, but he certainly recognized the symbol embossed on it. The emblem brought with it a sharp pang of forlorn remembrance. Minerva was correct - he knew the species. Haemanthus coccineus . . . a very rare floral motif, used by only one person he had ever known. The faint blue glow identified its purpose and Severus glanced up at the owl.

"No reply, Archimedes," he said curtly. "Have a safe journey home." He nodded at the bird, knowing that he would arrive at Hogwarts long before the owl did. Archimedes hooted loudly, startling the two clerks, and swooped out of a nearby open window. Severus hastened to his room to collect his sparse belongings.

With his promised receipt and his luggage shrunk and safely stowed in his pocket, Severus strode out of the hotel and down the dark boulevard toward the old French port. He slipped into the first vacant alley he came across, and took out the pendant. Glancing around cautiously, he murmured the common garden name for the species depicted on the surface.

"Blood Lily."

The familiar tug at his navel sent him spinning across the night, his lingering words melting away into silence in the dark alley.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

To Flitwick's relief, his wait finally ended. Shortly after Pomona had retired, he heard a muted pop followed by a soft thump out on the road. He poked his head out behind from the holly shrub and called quietly to the tall Potion Master, who was straightening his robes.

"Severus?"

Snape whirled, his wand springing to his hand. When Filius held up his own wand, lighting his face dimly with a murmured ‘Lumos', Severus scowled at him.

"Filius?"

Flitwick nodded and motioned for him to come closer. Severus rounded the hedge and stared down at the Charms Professor in bewilderment. "What in Merlin's name. . .?"

"Minerva asked me to wait for you. . . . she wanted me to caution you not to allow yourself to be seen returning to the school," Flitwick explained. Severus' bemused gaze swept over the transfigured furniture so oddly out of place in the outdoor setting. Flitwick merely shrugged. "I've been waiting over nine hours. No harm in being comfortable."

He scribbled a brief note which he quickly transformed into a glowing parchment airplane. As the missive swooped up to the castle, he flicked his wand, and the transfigured furnishings reverted back to their original forms. "We were growing concerned for you."

"I was in lectures and receptions all day - I only received Minerva's owl a half hour ago," Severus replied curtly. "What is this all about?"

"Minerva discovered young Harry Potter's situation is seriously unacceptable," Flitwick answered as they began the walk up to the school.

"Unacceptable?" Severus halted, his dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"His Muggle home is deplorable. Minerva wants him removed from there as soon as possible. I'll let her explain in detail - she has placed relevant memories of what she has learned in a Pensieve - you'll see those when we get to her office. She enlisted the help of Pomona Sprout and myself to keep things under control until you arrived."

"I don't understand," Severus stared at him. "Why the secrecy? And why the Pensieve?"

"You'll understand when you view it," Flitwick shook his head, "I don't wish to influence your interpretation of what you will see, so I won't go into it now, but I will say I agree with her completely." He began walking again, forcing Severus to follow him.

"If something is wrong at Harry's home, why haven't you removed him already?"

"It's complicated. I'm afraid this matter will have to be handled delicately. . . that's why we need you. We need a carefully considered plan of action before we proceed."

"I still don't understand. . . what's wrong with Harry? Is he all right?" Severus' tone hardened with angry concern.

"He's fine for now, as far as we know. Please, Severus - be patient. You'll understand everything soon, I promise." Flitwick tried to reassure him.

"You're being annoyingly secretive, Filius. Why doesn't Minerva want me to be seen?" Severus snapped impatiently.

"Again - it's complicated," Filius replied calmly. "You'll just have to trust me for now. You mustn't be seen by any of the other staff - or the castle portraits. It's imperative that no one except Minerva, Pomona and I, know you have returned to Hogwarts."

Severus' irritated expression suddenly smoothed into cold cunning. "I see. . . am I to presume that no one, includes a certain Headmaster?"

"I'm afraid so."

Severus nodded, his thoughts racing behind the aloof black eyes. "So that's what she meant. Minerva mentioned in her letter that she had met resistance in resolving the problem. I assume she means Albus doesn't agree that Potter should be removed from the home?"

"In a nutshell," Filius agreed quietly. He glanced up as the Hogwarts gates appeared in the distance. "I believe an invisibility spell would be prudent now," he commented.

Two wands swished through the dark night air, and two figures - one tall, the other barely up to his knee - faded out of view.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Minerva, Filius and Severus talked long into the night. They had not bothered to awaken Pomona - there was little more she could contribute at this point. But both Minerva and Flitwick had given their next course of action considerable thought and were eager to share those thoughts with the shrewd Potions Master and experienced spy. Which is what they did - once they were able to calm the man down enough to discuss the situation with some composure.

When Severus had first immerged from her Pensieve, Minerva had feared for the Dursleys and Albus' life - as well as the furnishings in her sitting room. Even with their best efforts to pacify him, several of her more delicate curios had suffered an abruptly shattered fate. Severus had paced the room for several minutes, ranting and swearing in an unrestrained manner that she had never before witnessed from a man who was normally icily controlled. Although a bit alarmed at the time, Minerva was also secretly amused that Severus' attachment to Harry Potter had been so spectacularly confirmed.

She had not voiced that amusement, of course, but had merely accepted his embarrassed apologies for his display, as Severus sheepishly repaired every article he had destroyed in anger. His tantrum had actually been rather liberating for them all. . .as both Filius and Minerva had felt the same frustration and fury, but had not indulged it.

When his outraged mood had subsided somewhat, Severus then became the cold, calculating organizer they had counted on recruiting. He agreed that waiting a week until Albus and Poppy returned was unacceptable. It was decided that Harry would be removed by Severus the next day and brought to Hogwarts for his own protection.

In order to avoid an outright confrontation with the Headmaster (and risk their own jobs in the process) it was decided that Harry's early removal would be concealed from Albus. He would be brought to Hogwarts under his invisibility cloak and kept in Severus' private quarters, away from prying eyes, until the end of the week. It was hoped that Poppy's examination of Harry's physical condition would confirm Minerva's claim of neglect. They would also have a week to talk with the boy, and perhaps persuade him to admit to his mistreatment. If he did, Minerva and Filius were convinced that the Headmaster would have no choice but to remove the boy from the Muggle's care permanently.

"If Harry admits that his guardians treat him harshly - that they don't feed him properly and overwork him, I know Albus will take his complaints seriously," Minerva argued. "With such proof, I doubt he'll question my decision to bring Harry here against his orders."

Severus, however, had little expectation of convincing Albus to change his mind, regardless of the evidence. He had watched the Headmaster's expressions carefully in the Pensieve memories, and there was no doubt in his mind that Albus already knew what kind of home the boy was living in. Albus clearly knew how unhappy the child was, and seemed strangely determined that he remain with those atrocious Muggles, for whatever convoluted reasons of his own. Severus didn't quash his co-conspirators hopes of a quick resolution to Potter's distressing situation, but he privately determined to develop an alternative plan, to execute if Albus refused their appeal.

"What if the Headmaster knows when we take Harry from Privet Drive?" Severus asked. "He may have some kind of alarm or tracking charm on the boy that alerts him to Harry's location."

Minerva shrugged. "I doubt he does - I think he might have mentioned it when we spoke of the wards. But if he does, then we'll just have to argue our case that much sooner."

"The Ministry tracks wand signatures. . ." Filius suggested. "It's the easiest way to trace a wizard. . . the Headmaster may do the same. Perhaps we should leave Harry's wand at the Dursleys home until we're ready to confront Albus." He glanced at Minerva. "If there is a monitoring charm on Harry, the warning alert is probably in the Headmaster's office. It might be wise for you to position yourself there when we take Harry, to silence any alarms."

"I can do that," she agreed.

"What about the Dursleys? Will they notify Albus if Harry turns up missing?" Severus asked.

Minerva snorted. "I hardly think so. . . Albus has only spoken to them once in eleven years - if he was telling the truth, that is. I've a feeling there is no love lost between Albus and Harry's guardians. But from what I've seen, the Dursleys will be glad to be rid of the boy."

"Nevertheless, it might be wisest to remove that possibility," Flitwick advised. "I will go with Severus when he picks up Harry."

Minerva and Severus both frowned at him in confusion. Flitwick smiled impishly. "Are you forgetting that I am rather adept at memory charms?"

Severus chuckled. "I think that's an excellent suggestion. You might also be able to determine if there are any monitoring charms on Harry and perhaps deal with them at the source."

"It's decided then," Minerva stated. She felt considerably relieved to know they now had a plan of action, and little Harry would soon be safely in their hands. "You look tired, Severus," she noted, scanning the wizard's pale weary face. "Why don't you get a few hours sleep? We can meet back here at around eight. I'll ask Pomona to pop over to Surrey again while we have breakfast and finalize everything."

Severus must have indeed been tired, for he did not argue the point. As soon as he and Flitwick concealed themselves behind invisibility charms and left for their own quarters, Minerva took her own advice and retired. She summoned Tinker, asking the house elf to provide a light breakfast for three in her sitting room at the appointed time and then climbed into bed. Weary from anxiety and the long hours of waiting, she dropped off to sleep quickly.