It was late that evening when Dobby accompanied Harry back to Snape's rooms.

After the mad rush in the common room, the three friends had once again sought refuge in the Room of Requirement, away from prying eyes.

Harry had transformed immediately, making Ron jump.

"I can't believe it," he'd cried. "Your hair's normal!"

Harry reached up with a hand to pull on a lock of his hair. "Huh. Seems the transformation puts it back to its normal color."

"Fortunately they took pictures," Hermione laughed. "I'd have given anything to be in Potions when Luna picked you up! A Swamp Bazul, that's really priceless."

"Yeah, it was funny until she said my name," Harry sighed.

Ron's irritation was suddenly gone. "Honestly, what was she thinking? She knows very well how delicate the situation is; I can't believe she did that."

"Oh, it's not important anymore, really. Everyone's known since the first day. I don't think Luna would've taken the risk otherwise," Hermione argued, before continuing in a withering voice," And you, Harry, what were doing in Moaning Myrtle's toilets? I seem to recall we talked about this—you agreed not to wander about on your own."

"I wasn't really alone, actually,” the boy disagreed. "Rather the opposite, in fact. Malfoy was there ahead of me."

"Draco?" Ron exclaimed. "I thought he was in the infirmary?"

"He was, and I'd seen him there just before then—he was hurt. Rather badly, apparently, but he didn't want to tell who'd attacked him. Rather strange, isn't it?"

"For Malfoy, certainly," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"And that's not all. He didn't really try to attack me in Myrtle's toilets, but he did try to trap me and I scratched him. And I got the proof I wanted. Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater."

The two teenagers gasped, their mouths hanging open.

"Merlin, but he's much too young!" Ron said at last. "Did you really see it…his arm?"

"Yes, I definitely saw his Mark," Harry confirmed. "No doubt about it. But it doesn't seem to be doing him much good. When I got there, he was crying, and Moaning Myrtle was consoling him. Can you imagine that?"

"Wow," Ron said. "That must've been a really terrifying sight."

"You said it."

"But that still doesn't explain how you ended up there in the first place," Hermione continued after thinking for a moment. "Don't tell me you rushed right in to humiliate him when you heard him crying."

"No, I was sort of just stupidly standing there when I saw that. I was looking for…it doesn't matter."

Hermione scrutinized him with that piercing and knowing look she often had, and Harry caught himself nervously stroking the bracelet with his fingertips. He didn't want to talk about it now. Not about Remus and what Harry'd learnt. First he wanted to think it over, and talk to someone else about it…as soon as woke up. The revelation about Malfoy was something he could talk to them about, but the other matter… That was different. He needed Severus to help him see it more clearly. For once in his life an adult seemed willing to be generous with his advice solely for his benefit, and Harry intended to take full advantage of it.

"You know very well you can call on Dobby anytime, Harry," Ron said disapprovingly. "He's only too happy to help Harry Potter, sir!"

"I know," Harry said with a smile. "I didn't think much. The fact of being a cat…that makes things different."

"Especially a green cat, I presume," Ron sneered.

"Anyway, we're really going to have to watch Malfoy closely," Harry continued, in a hurry to change the subject. He didn't even want to imagine where those photos would end up. "What I don't understand is why he didn't try to outright attack me. Maybe he really took Severus' threats seriously. That didn't stop him from warning me that Loki's on my heels. I still think we could call that a threat, coming from Draco."

"Loki?" Hermione asked. "What's that all about?"

"Who or what, I don't exactly know. That's the wolf that attacked me this morning."

"Oh, Harry! You're right; it's certainly not a normal wolf; how did it manage to get there, right in the middle of Diagon Alley?"

"By Apparating," Harry replied simply. "And he's easily bigger than a normal wolf. A sort of Animagus, in my opinion."

"What did it look like?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Like a very big white wolf. Or gray, I don't know exactly. Light-colored, and obviously more cunning than a normal wolf."

"That was definitely him at Hogwarts, then, the day of the attack," Hermione confirmed. "Several people saw him. But he didn't come up out of the dungeons, and he let the werewolves and other wolves alone. Maybe he was looking for you, Harry."

"That's what it seemed like, yeah," the boy groaned. "But I don't want to think about that now. After all that happened this summer, I'd like to start getting busy on the Quidditch team, but that'll have to wait until tomorrow. I don't want to leave Snape alone for too long. I don't like what Dumbledore did to him—something tells me this is going to turn out badly."

"Oh, that—you can be sure when he wakes up it’s really going to go badly, Headmaster or not. I don't think Dumbledore's going to get out of this one so easily!" Ron said with a laugh.

"That's for sure," Harry murmured. He was hardly pleased at the idea of Severus and Dumbledore angry with each other. "It's already been rather difficult between the two of them lately because of me. I suppose I'll just have to calm things down a bit."

"I think we've missed some of the interesting incidents," Ron said as he sat forward in his chair. "I know you must really want to think about something else, but…would it bother you to tell us about it?"

By his side, Hermione nodded, her eyes shining. A fire was burning in the grate, recreating the atmosphere of the Gryffindor common room, and suddenly Harry felt overcome by a strange feeling of comfort. Yes, he was at home, his other home. And Ron and Hermione were a part of his family as well, and they had a right to know. Everything, or almost all of it.

He settled himself deep in his armchair, and in his thoughts, went back in time. With a deep breath, he began.

"It started the day of my birthday."

***

Snape's room seemed strangely peaceful and quiet when he finally went down, accompanied by Dobby. It was well into the night, and Harry couldn't help but feel guilty for having left the professor for so long, and besides, how was the man supposed to be nourished? Dumbledore would've surely thought of that, obviously.

"Has everything been all right, Dobby?" he asked.

"Oh yes, Harry Potter. Professor Snape slept and Dobby gave him a nutritive potion. But…" the elf seemed to hesitate.

"Yes?" Harry prodded him.

"The magic of the professor is very agitated. His sleep as well, Harry Potter. It's not a good sleep. No, not a good sleep."

"Thanks, Dobby," the boy murmured. "I'm going to stay here tonight; you don't have to worry. Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome, Harry Potter," the elf squeaked, before disappearing.

Transforming again, he headed stealthily towards the bedroom. The little bit of light filtering into the room was enough for his cat eyes to see that Severus indeed didn't seem any more rested or relaxed than when he'd left him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Worried, he jumped onto the bed and went to lie against him. His breathing was irregular…ragged at times. He'd stay with him tonight, he decided, but he should have a serious conversation with Dumbledore tomorrow.

Talking with Ron and Hermione about his summer with Severus had felt strange…like telling a story, a story that someone else had lived through…and survived. It'd changed him, perhaps. At least that was what Ron and Hermione had seemed to think, over the course of his account. Their eyes had been wide at times, they'd smiled at others, and of course had had plenty of questions on the tips of their tongues. Still, they let him finish his tale before asking, aware of his need to tell it to the finish.

Telling it that way, things had seemed both so simple and dramatic. He'd not told them everything, of course; certain things had to stay just between him and Severus. But that hadn't stopped his two friends from understanding his sudden attachment to the professor, especially after the incident with the Protego.

"He must really be fond of you, Harry," Hermione'd simply stated. "That sort of magic is very powerful and requires a true attachment…more than that, actually. He must really love you."

Harry jumped, startled. "You not going to start that again!" he said.

"No, no, not like that," the girl defended herself. "You say he's there when you have nightmares; he lets you have your own room in his house; he's taking care of buying your clothes and supplies. He must think of you a bit like a son, Harry. More than a bit, probably, to have been able to activate that spell."

Harry swallowed hard, but those words…coming from Hermione. That was exactly it, wasn't it? When they'd talked about a family…he'd wanted to believe it, all the while fearing that coming back to Hogwarts would change everything. Of course, they'd just arrived, but he'd hardly got back to his normal life, and he found he missed Severus. He didn't want it to be over already. Snape had been there in the hard times, but Harry also wanted to know him here, in his everyday life.

He'd not even managed to understand it himself. It was a bit like when he arrived at the Weasleys in the middle of the summer, when he felt like he could never eat enough to make up for all the meals he'd missed at the Dursleys'. It was the same thing with Severus. He felt as if he'd never have enough time or enough opportunities to recapture what he'd been missing before.

But in a way, his friends had seemed to understand, especially Hermione with her steadfast, perceptive eyes.

He would've just liked for Severus to understand it as well; he would've liked to have been able to say the most important things.

Being there, stretched out on the professor's chest, watching over his breathing, was a way of saying it, he thought. If only he could've woken up then and there… Instead, Snape's eyelids fluttered, the muscles of his arms jerking in short little spasms, off and on. Dumbledore…if something happened to his Man In Black, the Headmaster would pay dearly. Oh yes, very dearly.

Fatigue finally got the best of the feline, who fell off to sleep, rocked by Snape's irregular respiration.

And Shadow dreamed….

A storm was raging, swirling an icy wind around him, threatening to carry him away at any moment. He could hear shouting somewhere, carried by the squall, but he couldn't pinpoint the location. He tried to go on in spite of it, to find shelter. The wind was so strong that it felt like walking through thick treacle…and it was so dark!

As he went on, Harry felt a deep sense of anxiety wash over him. More than that, in fact—horror, fear and despair—something so profound and powerful that nothing could dissipate it. As if a Dementor had just brushed by him, he thought confusedly. But it was much more than that, in reality. Disgust, guilt, shame and hatred. He felt caught up in a whirlwind of horrors.

And nowhere was there any shelter. Incapable of staying still, the cat headed for what appeared to be the eye of the storm, his heart racing. There, perhaps, he'd find something, a way to flee. The voices and shouting seemed to get closer, making the dreamlike atmosphere even more oppressive.

But the treacle seemed to thicken then, keeping him from going any farther. It was almost like a wall. Harry looked up, trying to pick out something through the darkness and the mist. What he saw made him instantly freeze: two black feverish eyes, then the blurry contours of a face stood out through the fog. A face with familiar features…

Snape!

It was a meow that came from his throat, but that didn't keep Severus from turning his eyes toward him, as if in slow motion. The spark of fear in his eyes became panic and he began to speak, but Harry couldn't understand. He had to add gestures to his words for Harry to capture the sense of them.

Go. Leave. Don't stay here. Go!

Shadow hunched down, surprised. Severus didn't want him to stay? Why not? The Man In Black seemed frantic now, his eyes searching the shadows around him, while his features seemed to distort, as if his face was made of mist as well.

No, he couldn't leave, Harry decided. He couldn't leave Snape alone in this place. Unable to go forward any farther, he lay on the ground, his eyes fixed on Severus'. Then, trying to push the despair away as far as possible, along with the fear and the disgust threatening to subdue him, he mustered up the softest purr he could find from the back of his throat. Eyes half-closed, he could almost imagine that he was there, in the laboratory, lying against Snape's shoulder, trying to soothe him after one of his missions.

Little by little, the storm seemed to subside, surrounding them both without touching them, raging furiously without being able to reach them. Severus' silhouette seemed to solidify slightly, and relief filled his weary eyes. They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity to Harry, before he felt as if he were being brusquely sucked from the dream. He struggled for a moment not to be torn from the calm little refuge, but it was hopeless. He had only enough time to see a flash of panic in the black eyes before he felt the fog of sleep leave him.

He shook his head, groggier than he usually was when he awakened. Bloody hell, he had to fall asleep again; he couldn't leave Severus… A movement to his right startled him, and he jumped to all four paws to find himself face-to-face with an anxious Dobby.

"Harry Potter, sir. Professor Dumbledore said to wake you to come and eat. Does Harry Potter want to eat in Professor Snape's rooms?"

Shadow held back a groan. He jumped to the floor and quickly made for the dining room, followed by the house-elf. Closing the door, he transformed.

"I'm going to eat here, Dobby. Is the Headmaster available?"

"He is in the infirmary right now, Harry Potter, but Dobby can go get him," the elf replied.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind. The dream had seemed so real. Was Severus really locked up there in that horrible place? Did he need him? Or was it just a truly bizarre dream?

"I'll go see him after I eat," he decided at last. "Thanks, Dobby."

The house-elf seemed to hesitate for an instant, then disappeared as he wiggled his ears. A tray full of food immediately appeared on the table, and Harry sat down in front of his meal.

Criminy, that dream had been…upsetting. Not like a normal dream, but rather like one of the visions that Voldemort liked to send him. Terribly realistic and frightening. Though, given his state of mind when he'd gone to bed the night before, it wasn't at all surprising.

Seized by a sudden intuition, he got up and headed for the bedroom again. Laid out on the bed, Snape hadn't moved an inch. And Dumbledore had been right—he seemed more rested. He needed this forced rest—that much was clear. Severus would never stop….

Harry went reluctantly to sit at the table again. He had to stop acting like the savior of humanity, once and for all. The best thing he could do for Snape was to let him sleep in peace, without having to take care of a troubled teenager. He quickly finished his meal, and cast a Tempus. He'd slept longer than he'd thought—it was well into the morning. Maybe he could meet up with the others in class, or go back to the Gryffindor common room to wait for them.

But before he was able to decide, he heard the outer door open, and then voices in the hallway. Without wasting time, he took his cat form and hid under the settee, where he was able to see the two wizards make their entrance.

Dumbledore and Remus! Relieved, he came out from his hiding place.

"Harry, we were hoping to find you here. Did you sleep well?"

Harry hesitated an instant. He hadn't the slightest desire to talk with the two men now, not after what he'd learnt yesterday, but he had to talk to them about Severus.

Wearing as neutral an expression as possible, he changed back again. "Rather well, yes," he replied right away. "But I think something's wrong with the professor. I had a bizarre dream. It was more than a dream, in fact. More like, I don't know…it seemed awfully real, and it was a nightmare." He paused for a moment. "I'm not sure Severus is really sleeping, or at least not resting like he should. Dobby thinks the same too," he added.

He saw Dumbledore frown imperceptibly. "And what was the dream like, Harry?" the professor asked softly.

"Well, there was a sort of storm, very strong, and nowhere to hide, but that wasn't the worst of it. I had that feeling like when the Dementors are there, you know?" He shuddered. "It was horrible. Agonizing. I don't know how, but I found myself with Severus in a place where the storm couldn't reach us, and we stayed there until I woke up. I know it sounds idiotic," he apologized. "But it was really different from my usual nightmares."

"I believe you, Harry," the Headmaster said gently. "I've come to make sure Professor Snape is doing well, and I won't forget what you've just told me. Is there anything thing else you noticed?"

Harry shook his head. "No, he seemed more rested this morning. But off and on, his heart beats very fast and his breathing is irregular." Noticing Remus' and Dumbledore's eyes on him, he began to blush. "I take my cat form at night to stay with him. My mind's more at ease that way."

Dumbledore had that infernal little gleam of mischief in his eyes, and Remus tilted his head to the side, clearly intrigued.

"Harry, that's a bit inappropriate," he began. But the boy didn't let him finish.

"Severus wouldn't mind. I've already done it at home," he said sharply. What right did Remus have to judge him? He felt a dull anger well up inside him. Lupin didn't like that he was close to Snape, obviously, but he had no right to come between them. No, he wouldn't allow it. Didn't matter what sort of father Remus was; Harry had to stay with Severus.

It would appear he'd hit the nail on the head, he thought, as he saw the brief spark of pain in Remus' eyes. It was Dumbledore who brought the embarrassing moment to an end.

"I assume Dobby brought you your meal?" he asked.

"Yes, thanks. I didn't realize it was so late; I slept longer than I'd planned."

"You needed sleep, my boy," the Headmaster said approvingly. "If you're finished, what would you say to going back to Gryffindor tower for now? Your friends should've finished their morning classes by now, and according to the rumors in the corridors, it seems the candidates for the Quidditch team are more numerous than ever this year," he said delightedly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'll have to go. I promised Ron. I'm going to call Dobby."

"That won't be necessary. Professor Lupin has just offered to go with you," Dumbledore replied.

The boy turned to Remus, who appeared to make it a point of honor to seem as normal and casual as possible. Harry clenched his teeth. Another one of these manipulations that Dumbledore loved so much, but Harry had the advantage here and now was the time to make use of it. With a gesture of agreement, he changed into the black cat, a spark of challenge in his eyes.

"That's not really necessary, Harry. I could protect you quite well as yourself," Remus protested. But Shadow gave no sign of budging.

"Very well," the professor sighed. "Off we go, then."

As they headed for the door, Shadow turned one last time to see Dumbledore quietly letting himself into Snape's bedroom. He almost did an about-face, but reluctantly held himself back. The Man In Black probably wouldn't appreciate him being there while the Headmaster examined him.

Tail held high, he trotted after Remus into the corridor.

The hallways were empty, and they walked along in silence for a moment. Shadow could sense the nervousness of the man at his side as he groped for a way to start a conversation…or what would seem like one.

"Harry, you could really transform back, you know," the professor finally said. "I'm completely able to protect you. I'm the new Defense professor, you remember?" he said with a strained little laugh.

But Shadow didn't even bother to turn around.

Remus sighed. "I would've liked to talk to you about certain things. You've had a difficult summer; you surely have plenty of things to tell me," he insisted. But again, no response from the cat. They finally reached the Gryffindor common room, and Remus seemed more and more upset. He followed the cat into the room, clearly waiting for him to transform. But Shadow contented himself with settling into an armchair, a look of defiance in his eyes.

"Harry, I must talk with you," Lupin huffed out. The cat started to flick his tail in annoyance, his green eyes hardening.

Remus glanced quickly around the room to check that it was empty.

"You know, don't you?" he murmured.

Shadow nodded, unable to hold back a muffled growl. Remus took a half-step backward, then uncertainly took another step forward.

"Harry, we have to talk about it…alone."

The cat felt his fur stand on end. No, they weren't going to talk. Not before he could talk to Severus, and not before he'd thought this all over.

"You have to understand, I didn't have a choice," Lupin pleaded. "It all happened against my wishes; I never wanted to have…I knew the risks all too well!"

Despite everything, Harry felt something inside of him deflate. Remus had never wanted to have a child, that's what he'd said. Not only was his mother dead, not only had his father abandoned him…but even worse, he'd never wanted him. What had Remus been playing at, all this time? Unable to remain there any longer, the cat jumped to the floor and took off for the dormitories.

"Harry, wait!" Remus called after him. "I'm sorry, I really regret it, do you…"

But the rest was lost in jumble of noises, covered by the pounding of his heart. Was it never going end? Would there ever be a time when things stopped getting worse, being painful, being…unpredictable? He desperately wished he was back at Snape Manor, with Snape busy with his potions in a corner of the laboratory, with nothing else to think about.

Shadow jumped to the unoccupied bed that should've been his own and started to scratch at the coverlet with his claws. It was so much easier to express his frustration in this form. He would've liked to scratch Remus' face in its place, but that was impossible, of course. He was his father, after all.

Without even realizing, Harry took his human form again and stretched out on the bed. His father. He'd wanted one for so long, and now… An insistent feeling of betrayal clogged his throat. Remus' betrayal…but why, and against whom? James? Because if Remus was his father, then who was his mother? And why did Harry look so much like James? But that wasn't the only thing…It wasn't Lupin who'd saved him, who'd stayed with him when he had nightmares. He hadn't been the one who…it hadn't been him.

It just hadn't been Remus. The entire story sounded terribly phony.

At that moment the door was thrown open, and Ron and Hermione ran in, hardly giving the cat a chance to jump up.

"Mate, you're here! Have you thought about the team? It's all everyone's talking about; they say you're having try-outs this afternoon—is it true?"

"Really, Ron, there are days when I wonder where you were raised," Hermione grumbled, sounding very much like Mrs. Weasley. "Hullo, Harry, how are you?" she asked as she turned to Harry, noticeably worried.

"Good, thanks," the boy quickly answered. "So far as Quidditch, I haven't planned anything yet. But if everyone's ready, why not? I suppose we'll have to get started if we want to make up for lost time. I already have a few ideas, but we'll have to see, out on the pitch."

"Perfect," Ron announced, "and since I’m the Captain's best friend, I demand to go first."

"Oh," Harry said, surprised. "You want to play on the team? Actually, why not—what position will you try for?"

"Keeper," Ron said confidently. "I’m good as a Keeper."

"All right," Harry said, trying not to let the doubt show in his voice," and we'll have to replace Fred and George. And find new Chasers. I hope there won't be too many people who want to show up; that'll take forever!"

"I wouldn't count on that if I were you," Hermione said with a smile. "All the girls seem determined to come and try out and it's all everyone's talking about. Get ready for a long session!"

Harry smiled. In other circumstances, he probably would've been annoyed, but it was the perfect time to have something different to think about.

"This afternoon will be perfect. After class, I guess. Hermione, could you make us some sort of sign, maybe a banner, to hang up in the common room?"

The girl sighed as she shook her head. "This is what you call applying your mind? Harry, you do remember you're a wizard, don't you?"

Lifting her wand, she murmured a spell that seemed indecipherable to the two boys. An instant later, the words, 'Try-outs for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team This Afternoon at the Pitch,' floated in the air, just above the fireplace.

"Hermione, you're great," Harry said as he smiled. "You're not planning on trying out, are you?" he added with a touch of worry.

"Oh, no," she murmured. "You'll already have enough catastrophes to deal with on the ground, believe me."

The comment made Harry groan. "I have to find someone to supervise the tryouts. Severus is out of the running. I hope McGonagall will be available."

"Speaking of him, how is Professor Snape?" Hermione asked.

Harry hesitated. "I don't know. He's still sleeping, but…I don't know if that's really a good thing. I had this bizarre dream last night. It was really scary. If whatever was in the dream is real, then Dumbledore made a serious mistake…but I think it's clear he did make one. Taking Snape by surprise? He's never going to forgive him."

"If a student had done it, they wouldn't even get expelled for that," Ron said gloomily. "No, they'd spend the rest of their lives hanging by their feet in the laboratory like a specimen. And neither Dumbledore nor the Ministry could do a thing about it. So, if it's meant to happen, I'd like it to be Dumbledore. If he's lucky and Snape's in a good mood, maybe he'll be content to just give him detention until the end of the year."

The two teenagers burst out laughing, and Harry felt the tension of the morning fade slightly away. This was what he'd been missing: stupid joking with his friends, laughing over serious stuff. That helped, really it did.

"Are you going to eat in the Great Hall?" he asked.

"That's what we'd planned, but we can always ask Dobby to bring us something," Ron suggested.

Harry thought for a moment. Yes, it'd be good to eat here, in peace, away from other eyes, but he couldn't spend his life hiding.

"No, I'll go with you. I have to see McGonagall and alert the others about the tryouts anyway."

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Harry," Hermione began. "You're not supposed to expose yourself as long as the castle's not safe, and I don't think that's the case yet."

"Well, Dumbledore will let me know that the minute I step into the Great Hall, won't he?" Harry replied offhandedly. "And I'll be with you. What could actually happen to me?"

Ron and Hermione smiled at him. The redhead clapped him on the back with a bit more enthusiasm than was necessary. Hermione got up, seeming determined.

"Harry, at least stay in your other form until we're in sight of the Great Hall, all right?" she pleaded. "No unnecessary risks."

"Agreed," Harry promised. "I don't know why I'm dying of hunger when I've just eaten breakfast, but…I'm dying of hunger and I've just eaten breakfast! Are we going?"

Without waiting for an answer, he took his cat form and headed agilely for the door. Realizing that no one was behind him, he turned to see Hermione and Ron staring at him, one hiding a bemused look behind her hand, the other smiling widely with satisfaction.

"Well, it seems there's justice in the world after all!" Ron said triumphantly, running a hand through is mop of green hair.

Shadow looked down incredulously at his paws. Black… What could Ron mean…? The cat twisted to see the rest of his body and almost fell over when he saw what'd caught his two friends' attention. His tail. His magnificent tail, which he could use to signal his mood with a whip-like motion, or curl delicately around his paws, giving him a mysterious mien. The precious appendage was now green. The only part of his body that'd remained so…

Bloody hell. As if he needed anymore proof that there were no limits on the ridiculous.

Gathering his dignity, he headed for the door again, tail held high and stiff…before pulling it down quickly. No need to fly the flag full-mast today. Yes, really no need!

The trip to the Great Hall was without incident, Ron and Hermione walking close to the cat carrying its tail between its legs. They hid discreetly in an alcove just before reaching the Hall, and Harry changed back again, anxiously stretching out a lock of hair.

"It's all right, mate, all normal there," Ron said, choking back a laugh. "If I were you, I'd look a bit lower."

Turning away from him, Harry stifled a groan, and tried to enter the Hall in as dignified manner as possible. A task complicated by the barely concealed laughter of Ron and Hermione behind him.

The first thing Harry noticed was the unusual number of empty places at the High Table. It wasn't rare that one or other of the professors failed to show, but never before had he seen Dumbledore's seat empty without good reason. A quick glance made his throat tighten: two other seats were empty as well: Snape's, and Madam Pomfrey's. He added it all up quickly…

He was about turn on his heels when he caught McGonagall's eyes, and the slight nod of her head. He walked toward her, full of apprehension. Around him, all conversation had fallen silent, replaced with a buzz of murmuring. Again. Would this never end? Did there always have to be a reason for people to look at him like he was some sort of circus animal? But that wasn't the most important thing just now.

"Mr. Potter," the professor greeted him when he reached the table. "I believe I've understood from the rumors that you intend to hold Quidditch tryouts this afternoon?"

Harry stayed stunned for a moment. Didn't she have anything more important to tell him? But his Head of House's piercing eyes pushed him to respond.

"If that doesn't bother you, Professor," he began. "About that… Professor Snape was supposed to supervise my outings to the pitch to avoid…any incidents, but I don't think he's available right now," he said casually.

The mixture of indignation and worry in McGonagall's eyes had definitely been worth the words, he decided.

"Enlighten me, Mr. Potter," she drawled, "you intended to have the Gryffindor team tryouts supervised by the Head of Slytherin?"

Well, putting it that way….

"I could ask Rem…Professor Lupin."

"That won't be necessary," McGonagall stated dryly. "You may start beginning at three o'clock. Don't even think about putting a foot outside the castle without me, is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am, but…" After an instant of hesitation, Harry leant toward the table and asked more softly, "How is the professor?"

McGonagall's face softened. "Nothing serious, Harry. The Headmaster is with him just now. If you need anything, come and ask me, all right?"

The boy agreed, but the worried look in her eyes didn't go unnoticed. The witch offered him a comforting smile. "Go eat, Mr. Potter. You need it." Then she added, "It's a pleasure to see you among us again."

Harry returned her smile, then went back to his usual place, feeling the weight of the eyes watching him. It would be strange to see Snape again at that table, he thought as he filled his plate. Would he still go on shooting him those black looks, or would he ignore him? Would he have that imperceptible smile that Harry learnt to detect these last few months?

But he had no more time to think; two fifth-years had shyly approached him, obviously wanting to talk to him. Not already, he thought, not yet. Did he have to make a public announcement that yes, once again, he'd fought Voldemort, and yes, he'd come out of it alive, and that no, he wasn't signing autographs?

"Excuse me…looks like you're holding trials for the Quidditch team this afternoon?" one of the boys asked.

Oh. Quidditch.

"Starting at three, on the pitch," Harry announced. "Be dressed and warmed up. And try to be good."

The two students smiled outright before returning to their places, whispering excitedly between them. About Quidditch, Harry told himself, only Quidditch. He sighed. He'd obviously eaten too much.

"I think I'll go back up," he said to his friends. "I'm not hungry anymore. I have to start to get the moves for tryouts ready anyway."

"I'll go with you," Ron quickly offered as he stood with his mouth full.

"I'm coming too," Hermione added. "Room of Requirement?"

Harry nodded, and a few minutes later, all three of them fell into the comfortable chairs with a sigh of relief.

"I hope they'll find the wolves that were able to get in soon," Ron began. "I'm starting to get paranoid. I actually thought that suit of armor was trying to attack you in the corridor."

Harry shuddered—he'd had the same impression.

"This whole affair makes me nervous too. If only Hagrid were here; I'm sure he'd know something." Then, after thinking for a moment, he added, "Do you think the twins would have any ideas? You know, about the underground passages…"

"In fact," Hermione said, "Dumbledore already questioned them, as experts on the subject. The underground passages explain certain things, but not all of them."

"I suppose we'll still have to be careful for a while," Harry sighed. Thoughtfully, he stared off into the fireplace. It was warm, he realized, too warm… The Room of Requirement overdid things a bit sometimes. But something about this heat didn't seem right. Unconsciously, he brought his hand up to his forehead. Burning. He was burning up. His scar…

His vision clouded over, and the mist he'd been in the entire night floated around him again, thick and turbulent. And that oppressive feeling, the anxiety…

He's mine.

Black eyes. A flash of red light. And suddenly, everything disappeared again.

"Harry, are you feeling all right?" Hermione's voice seemed to be coming from miles away. But when he opened his eyes, she was standing just beside him, leaning toward him, clearly worried.

"I…yes," he replied. "Did you see that?"

Worried, questioning eyes answered him.

"The fog," he insisted. "And that voice!"

"Harry, there wasn't any fog and no one spoke," Ron said calmly. "Maybe we should go get Madam Pomfrey or Dumbledore. Are you all right, mate?"

The boy brought a hand up to his forehead uncertainly. "Yeah, it was nothing. Nothing important anyway." Just Voldemort wanting to say hullo, nothing serious.

Merlin, Severus had to wake up. All that'd happened to him recently was bothering him too much for his Occlumency shields to be effective. It was obvious he'd not convinced Ron or Hermione either. It was time to change tactics.

"Actually, do you have any idea who'll be trying out for Keeper?'" he asked the other boy casually. Ron hesitated for an instant, before giving in to the temptation and launching into a passionate discussion on the merits of several candidates for the position. Hermione looked on, her eyes amused and exasperated.

Harry smiled slightly. The day could still turn out well after all.

***

All in all, he hadn't been mistaken. The tryouts session was grueling, but it was exactly what he needed: to throw himself wholeheartedly into the sky, surrounded by Gryffindors. A few too many, perhaps. As Hermione had predicted, most of Gryffindor seemed determined to be on the team, under Harry's wing, even those of them who could hardly stay on a broom.

The new Captain had to begin his career by firmly rejecting all candidates who'd only come to have fun and see the Boy Who'd Lived Again, before finally being able to get down to work under McGonagall's attentive eyes.

When the sun set on the pitch, they were all exhausted, but there'd not been a single incident to spoil the tryouts, and the team was now complete.

Followed by a deliriously happy Ron, and a Ginny who was very satisfied with herself, as well as a seemingly conspiring Hermione, Harry went back to the Gryffindor common room to celebrate the creation of the new Gryffindor team, and to finally decide on the first practice dates.

It was just before curfew when McGonagall decided to put an end to the little party, and accompanied Harry back to his dungeon rooms.

It was with relief that Shadow took his form, and followed the Head of Gryffindor along the way to the dungeons, with a clear cut intuition that this day was going to finish badly.

With every step that took him closer to the Potions master, he could feel the heavy anxiety weigh in on him a bit more, pushing him to move on at top speed. Severus. He had to get back to Severus, and quickly! He was almost running, McGonagall at his heels, when they finally reached the door to the professor's rooms.

It opened immediately to let them pass through, and Shadow rushed toward the Man In Black's room. He hadn't been wrong, he quickly realized. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey were standing around the bed, their faces drawn with fatigue and concern. Harry didn't miss the spark of guilt that crossed through the Headmaster's blue eyes when he saw the cat. Harry transformed immediately and went to the figure stretched out on the bed.

Snape was still asleep, in the same position as when he'd left him that morning, except for a single difference, though. Severus' face was contorted by an expression of extreme tension, and covered with a sheen of sweat that made his pallor even waxier.

A hand rested on his shoulder, and Harry turned slowly to face the Headmaster, who was standing slightly away from him, as if he feared a new outburst. In a voice so tired and broken that the boy almost felt sorry for him, Dumbledore announced the verdict.

"I'm sorry, my boy. Something didn't work correctly. We've tried everything. It's impossible to wake Severus."