Severus sat up, with a start, grabbing his wand even as he searched for the signs that his wards had been breached. There was no immediate danger that he could sense, but something had just broken—loudly—in the outer room and he wasn’t arrogant enough to think that his protections were invincible. The Dark Lord wouldn’t have been able to breach the wards on Hogwarts itself, but it was possible that one of his inner circle had gotten ministry permission on one pretense or another with all that was happening now…even possible that he’d bribed one of the creatures in the Forbidden Forest. They’d have had more trouble getting into his quarters, but if the Dark Lord was sending spies... Drawing his robe close and raising his wand, he slipped into the sitting room. And found the tall bookshelf that had been up against the far wall had somehow fallen. A clumsy intruder, then, but he wasn’t going to give whoever it was a chance to recover. A curse was half spoken at the dark-haired figure squirming underneath the shelving before his brain caught up with his body. “Mr. Potter, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?! Trying to get yourself killed or merely give me heart failure?”

“I…sorry, Professor…I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep—”

“So you thought turning my quarters into shambles would be an interesting way to spend your time? Do you know what would have happened if I’d cursed you?” To me? The Dark Lord would be an improvement over what some of the population would come up with!

“I was just getting a book! Pulling over the bookshelf was an accident—it was up on the top shelf.”

How in Merlin’s name does someone pull over a bookshelf weighing perhaps twice what he does by accident? “What, it was too far away for an Accio? I must congratulate you on your excellent timing…quarter past five is just when I planned to get up. That’s when all sane wizards wish to be awakened. Frankly, with the mess you just made I’m surprised that half the rest of the castle isn’t down here pounding on the door demanding to know what happened. Perhaps tomorrow morning you could—”

The boy’s jaw clenched. “I said I was sorry. I just didn’t think of Accio’ing it.”

And this is the savior of the Wizarding world. Merlin help us all. Severus took a deep breath. I will not kill the brat. I cannot kill the brat. I could maim him, but no doubt someone would get annoyed. He let out that breath and drew in another, forcing himself to relax his grip on his wand. There are no spies from the Dark Lord in my sitting room. The castle is not under immediate Deatheater assault. Now if my heart would kindly get back in my chest…. “I assume you managed to grievously injure yourself in the process of demolishing my sitting room? Broken bones, a concussion, massive internal bleeding?”

“No, sir. The chair took most of the weight. My foot’s pinned though.”

“Hm…just as well, I suppose. There would have been questions.”

“About what?”

“Never mind, it’s of no concern to you. Be still.” He carefully levitated the heavy shelf back upright, allowing Harry to pull his foot free and sit upright to survey the damage.

“Oh, blast. I can fix that, I swear.”

Severus glanced around at the wreck of his sitting room, truly taking in the damage for the first time as the adrenaline rush finally began to fade. ‘That’ appeared to be a particularly hideous statue one of his coworkers had given him several years back. From some sort of staff gift exchange, if he remembered correctly—apparently the herbology professor had been under the impression that his quarters needed some kind of artistic touch. He’d put it on one of the upper shelves when Albus had insisted that pitching it in the pond wasn’t an appropriate response and ignored it since. “I believe it’s supposed to be a representation of the merpeople in kelp.”

The boy looked dubiously at the remains surrounding him. “If you say so.”

Severus dismissed the glass shards with a flick of his wand, and offered a hand to help the boy out of the pile of books. “Are certain you are not injured?” After all, the last thing he needed was one of the other professors haranguing him for failure to take ‘proper’ care of his current charge, and Merlin knew they were incapable of keeping their noses out of anyone else’s business. A quick diagnostic spell didn’t reveal anything particularly unusual…remnants of older bruises, finally fading, and a bump on his elbow.

“Yes, sir,” Harry agreed. “I…I really am sorry; I didn’t mean to break your statue or wake you up. Or make a mess.”

“And that makes it all better, of course.”

He flushed. “Well, what do you want me to do, get a time turner and stop myself from knocking over the shelf?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Severus returned. “You can, however, clean up this mess. The books were arranged by subject—I expect them to be put back in the same manner.” The brat made a face, probably not intending for Severus to see it, but he didn’t argue. Perhaps he’s beginning to make common sense a habit. Probably too much to hope for, but it would make his year easier. He turned back to his room as the boy began to stack the books. It was nearly time to get up anyway.

He took breakfast in his room since it was still well before the rest of the staff would awaken, sorting through his notes to determine what needed to be done in the next few days. He’d had to remake several of the potions he’d started at the beginning of the school as his and Harry’s prolonged absence had interrupted the brewing process and it hadn’t occurred to anyone else to store them appropriately until he returned. Poppy had been most insistent—to the point of an owl a day—that he restock the remedies for the more common student ailments that he hadn’t finished before the school year started. Most of them were fairly straightforward, and several he marked as possible exercises for his OWL and NEWT level classes. Good practice for them, and it would allow him to devote his time until school began again to the more complex potions. And then there were his personal experiments and the Dark Lord’s requirements…. After sorting through his to-do list, he showered and changed before heading back out into the sitting room. It appeared that Harry had made a credible show of sorting through the majority of the mess and was preparing to start reshelving them. Severus considered for a moment before interrupting. “Just leave them stacked, for now. I’ve been meaning to sort through that lot anyway.”

“Professor?”

“There’s little point in putting them all back if I’m going to get rid of a third of them anyway. Have you eaten?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, they’ll be serving in the Great Hall shortly, so I suggest that you make yourself presentable.”

“Sir?” He looked around at the remaining scattered volumes.

“I’m hardly going to withhold food simply because you made a mess.” Idiot muggles. “You’d best hurry if you want the house elves to set you a place.”

“I’ll finish sorting them after breakfast,” he promised

“I would hope so. I will be in my workroom; don’t disturb me unless it’s an emergency.”

“Yes, sir.”

The warning had been unnecessary, Severus considered as he locked the door behind him and turned towards the cauldrons—in the three days they’d been sharing quarters the brat had spent most of days either in the library or with one of the other professors who’d remained in the castle. None of whom had offered to take him off Severus’ hands, mind, but at least he was well out of the way when Severus was experimenting. And the experiments were going quite well, actually…it appeared that diluted wyrsa venom in combination with some of the more common ingredients was actually a much safer muscle relaxant than what they were currently using. He checked that cauldron first to see that the mixture was settling properly and then moved on to the ones he had to finish for the Dark Lord. He couldn’t afford to be unprepared at the next summoning… although, now that he’d had time to think about it, it seemed strange that the creature hadn’t brought up the unicorn remains at any point. But then, he wasn’t precisely being rational at the time. Another summons is bound to come shortly.

“Severus? Severus, are you in there?”

He was seriously tempted to ignore the headmaster, but knowing Albus he wouldn’t go away until he got a response. Is there any way to avoid this man in the walls of the castle? “A moment, please.” There was no reason not to invite him into the workroom of course—it wasn’t as though he didn’t know about Severus’ connection to the Dark Lord—but this place was his sanctuary and he didn’t particularly enjoy inviting people in. Especially nosey headmasters. “Albus. Shouldn’t you be at breakfast now?”

“I had an early meeting at the ministry,” Albus said with a smile. He moved away from the pile of books on the floor that he’d been examining to face Severus. “Well, I must say you look much better than the last time we spoke.”

“Considering that the last time we spoke I was barely two days out of Azkaban and had had less than a day to recover from a Deatheater assault that’s hardly complimentary,” Severus pointed out dryly. Merlin’s beard, his eyes are twinkling again. What does he have planned now?

“Now, now, no need to be rude. How are things between you and the young Mr. Potter?”

“We avoid each other as much as possible. If you didn’t insist that he spend his nights in my quarters—” doing his best to give me heart failure— “it would be an excellent relationship.”

“Now, Severus, it can’t possibly be that bad.”

Severus ignored him. “I notice that you haven’t been around the castle of late.”

“I’ve been working at the ministry trying to ensure that some of the…less qualified… teachers won’t be returning, and that their replacements will be more acceptable.”

“In other words you want Umbridge gone and you don’t want any more of Fudge’s lackeys in her place.”

“Something to that effect,” the headmaster agreed. “Unfortunately while the minister has lost considerable face with the return of you and young Mr. Potter, he does still have some backing. Particularly from families known to follow Voldemort.”

Severus forced himself not to wince at the name. Unsettling, but hardly unexpected. After all, if Fudge is removed someone competent might end up with the office and the Dark Lord can hardly have that. “So she will be back?”

“According to Muggles, it is better the devil you know,” Albus said with a sigh. “Although I doubt many of them have met Delores. That isn’t what I came down here to speak to you about, however. You’ve been making some headway with the wyrsa venom?”

“Quite a lot, actually,” Severus agreed. “Granted obtaining more ingredients is going to be extremely difficult, but there are Muggle villages in the region that know of the creatures and might be persuaded to trade with us for any kills they make. Given the creatures’ taste for magic I don’t think there will be many wizards eager to go hunting.” Although now that I think about it, that might be an interesting assignment to rid me of some of the more irritating students. A pair of redheaded twins sprang to mind, but he dismissed them after a moment’s consideration. Knowing those two they’d probably enjoy it. Perhaps Lovegood….

“Something to pursue, perhaps.”

Severus tried not to smirk at the older man’s comment—it may have been intended as agreement for a trading contract with Muggles but it dovetailed rather nicely with his less-than-complimentary thoughts as well. At least I know he still can’t manage legilimancy on me without my knowledge.

If he noticed anything in Severus’ expression, Dumbledore gave no sign of it as he continued. “However, I have a contact with a wizard in Belarus who specializes in substance replication. I know it’s rather dangerous, particularly with potions’ ingredients, but if you have any uncontaminated samples remaining I would appreciate it if you would take one to the apothecary in Diagon Alley. He will see that it reaches Anton.”

Mucking about with artificial ingredients in potions was more along the lines of suicidal than ‘rather dangerous,’ but with this particular ingredient the options they had were decidedly limited. As long as someone else mixes the first batch, I suppose. “Why not just send it by owl post?”

“Too great a chance of being intercepted, and I don’t want a relatively unknown poison falling into the wrong hands.”

Severus nodded at that, and made a mental note to keep hidden from the Dark Lord the contents of the vials he’d brought back. Not particularly difficult—he wants potions that achieve specific effects, but he couldn’t care less what goes into them. “I have a batch simmering now, but I can go this afternoon.”

“Excellent, my boy. Be careful—you’ve heard about the fight in Knockturn Alley a few days ago, I assume?”

Severus nodded. “Alastor mentioned it. Is there anything else?”

“No, no, that was all I needed. You are aware that classes will resume at the start of next week? The train will bring in the students Sunday evening.”

Six more days. He couldn’t decided whether having Harry out of his quarters was worth the return of the rest of the horde, but on the whole he rather thought not. “I’m ecstatic.”

Albus smiled and nodded, ignoring the heavy sarcasm in Severus’ voice. “I will see you later than. And I’m glad you’re finally taking the time to do some redecorating.”

Severus glared at his back for a moment, and then transferred his glare to the pile of books and the empty shelf. Redecorating. I take it back, the sooner the brat is back in Gryffindor Tower the better. If he was honest with himself he had to admit that it wasn’t even that the boy was an unpleasant houseguest—the destruction of his sitting room aside he’d been basically polite and quieter than Severus had had any reason to suspect. He spent his days occupied elsewhere and kept his nose out of Severus’ business. Unfortunately, the boy generally returned to his quarters in the evenings as soon as supper was finished. It made sense, really, since the other professors would go back to their quarters then as well, but however busy Severus’ days were he was accustomed to quiet in the evenings. Granted the time never seemed to be Severus’ own, but it was when he came out of his dimly lit lab—strong light was harmful to certain potions—and read or graded or did other things that gave him a semblance of relaxation. He smirked. Grading papers was actually a wonderful way to relieve tension.

His smirk faded quickly. With the boy there…well, Harry wasn’t loud, but he it wasn’t the silence Severus was accustomed to either. Playing with a deck of Wizarding cards, writing letters to his friends to be sent off with Hedwig or that lunatic runt of an owl belonging to the Weasley boy, muttering things to himself while pouring over Quidditch books…. He couldn’t justify confining the child to the small and windowless spare room, particularly after what his relatives had done, but he’d been tempted more than once when a random word or phrase had broken his concentration. He shook his head as he re-entered his workroom, setting a charm to notify him when noon had come. Six more days.

A muted rustling from the outer room not long after that he assumed was Harry returning drew his attention for a moment, but as it wasn’t accompanied by any major explosions his attention returned to his work. When he finally exited the workroom after the noon chime had gotten too irritating to ignore, he found that the boy had indeed finished his work and was now scanning one of the books while munching his way through a stack of crackers. “Hello, Professor.”

“Harry,” Severus acknowledged. He snapped his fingers for a house elf, and a moment later had a bowl of soup delivered for his lunch. “It seems the headmaster has detailed me for an errand in Diagon Alley today.”

The boy looked up at the statement. “You need new ingredients?”

“I need to make a delivery, actually. It will be a short trip, but if you were wishing to replace your broom I suppose you could come along and we could stop by the Quidditch shop for a few moments. Only a few moments, mind; I do have better things to do with my time than waste it on frivolous toys.” Thinking about the Harry’s evening activities had triggered the thought earlier. It makes more sense to do it now than wait for the Headmaster to hear about the broom’s destruction…we’d be making the trip then for certain.

“That would be great, Professor! I need to stop at Gringotts first though.”

“Well, I did assume that even you would have more sense than to carry large sums of money on your person. Do you have your key?”

“In my trunk. When are we going?”

“Approximately an hour. You realize of course that we are bound to be seen by followers of the Dark Lord at some point?”

It was obvious from his expression that he hadn’t considered that particular aspect of the trip, but he nodded anyway. “Yes, sir.”

“Then you will understand that you are not going wandering off on your own while we are there.”

“Why can’t I go look at the other shops?” he objected. “I’m fifteen!”

“And a most tempting target who’s already gone missing once this month. Not to mention the fact that you’ve managed to wander off into Knockturn Alley on your own more than once in the past, and with an attack having occurred there less than a week ago….” The brat still looked rebellious, and he frowned. “There is no point in giving the Dark Lord any more opportunities.” Or the Wizarding World any more panic attacks.

“I can take care of myself for one afternoon!”

Severus glared. “This is not a matter for debate. You will agree to remain within my sight at all times or you will not go, is that clear?” The frown deepened. “Mr. Potter, did you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” he finally returned grudgingly.

“Your word?” The brat was a Gryffindor; as ridiculous as Severus sometimes found the concept, he would keep his oath once it was given even without a Wizard’s binding on it. Of course he then assumes others will follow the same convention…lunacy.

Harry heaved a sigh. “I promise I’ll stay with you when we go to Diagon Alley.”

Teenagers. You’d think he just agreed to give up his firstborn. “Thank you.” Severus stood. “Now, a second point. Because we will be seen by said followers, it is critical that we maintain the image that we are as much at odds with each other as we have been for the past several years, if not more so. Do you believe that you will be able to manage?”

“No problem, Professor. Is that all?”

As displeased as he looked at being unable to wander about on his own, Severus suspected he’d be well able to maintain a ‘disrespectful brat’ façade for the whole of the trip. “That is all.”

“I’m going to go down to Professor Flitwick’s classroom then.”

“As you wish, but be back within the hour or I’ll be going without you.”

Harry nodded, finishing the last of his crackers and heading for the door. “Hello, Professor,” he greeted as he opened the door.

“Greetings, Mr. Potter, it is fortunate that we meet at this time for I must warn you of a great darkness coming for you.”

“I think his name is V—he who shall not be named.”

“It is a darkness,” she continued as though he hadn’t interrupted, “which will—”

“Sybil, the boy has errands to run,” it was Severus’ turn to interrupt. “Was there something that you needed?” As soon as her attention focused on him, Harry slipped out the door. I wonder, if I dropped the bookshelf on her, would I have time to make it into my workroom before she recovered?

“My supply of applewood is critically low, and as you know I must have it to accurately forsee the future. I have forseen that you will be making a trip to Diagon Alley and would be willing to pick up a bundle for me.”

Applewood has about as many prescient properties as Longbottom’s toad, and Albus talks too much. “So you just came to inform me that I’m running your errand. How nice of you.”

“And to let you know that you are in serious danger. There is a shadow stalking you that will consume….”

Severus closed his eyes. And I thought my day was getting better. “Where should I pick up your…ingredients?” he asked when she paused for breath. If he didn’t agree it would no doubt lead to her hanging about in his quarters wasting his time in an attempt to convince him, and while forcefully removing her from his quarters would provide definite temporary satisfaction Albus would fuss at him about it and waste even more of his time.

“Shara’s Splendid Sensory Sensations.”

”Of course, what was I thinking? Well, if you’ll excuse me I have some work to finish before we go….” He didn’t wait for her response, slipping into his workroom and locking the door behind him before she could prevent his escape. Which didn’t keep her from trying to speak through the door, but at least it muffled whatever she was saying. It took several minutes, but she finally gave up and there was blessed silence. For about ten minutes.

“Severus? Severus, are you in there? I need to speak to you.”

“What now?” He put down the cauldron he was working in and turned to the door. Minerva could be more determined than Albus when she wanted something. Sybil, at least, had come in when the door was open, but Minerva must have used the private password he’d given her to get into his quarters. Only she and Albus—and temporarily Harry—had one; everyone else had to knock like civilized, ignorable, beings. Minerva and Albus also had passwords to his workroom should they ever need entrance, but since she hadn’t used that one he judged the situation to be slightly less than critical and took the time to preserve the contents of the cauldron correctly. “I thought you were at the ministry,” he said as he opened the door.

“Hello, Severus, it’s good to see you also. Why yes, I’m doing quite well, and yourself?” An unfortunate side effect to having had this particular colleague as a teacher was that it had left her more immune than most to his glare. Her smile didn’t even waver. “Albus and I are taking turns, but at this point it’s more a matter of irritating Fudge than actually accomplishing anything.”

“That’s rather a satisfying end in itself,” he pointed out. “But I assume you came here with some particular purpose?” As opposed to simply joining the legions determined to annoy me today?

“I had wondered whether you had noticed anything out of the ordinary about young Mr. Potter recently.”

“Such as…?”

“His behavior has been rather…subdued, as late. The other professors have noticed it as well.”

“You mean he’s managed to avoid placing himself in any potentially life threatening situations in the time we’ve been back? Followed all of the rules for more than twenty-four hours at a stretch? I’m amazed.”

“Severus.”

“Minerva, we were trapped in a jungle for days, and spent most of that wandering with no real idea where we were going or what would happen to us. We then faced a threat no wizards have faced in decades, defeated said threat, and then spent just as much time in a village where we didn’t speak the language trying to defeat an enemy even more difficult to fight and no less dangerous. It’s natural that the brat would be a bit tired after that series of events. I’m tired.”

She shook her head. “It’s more than that. He’s spent most of his time in the library or volunteering to help the other professors clean classrooms. He hasn’t gone outside once that anyone has noticed, not even to visit the Quidditch pitch.”

“His broom was damaged in the jungle. I assume after he’s replaced it he’ll be much more active.”

“He’s also being overly polite—apparently at meals he doesn’t even speak unless someone speaks to him first, and if he calls me ma’am one more time….”

“He’s developed a basic sense of manners and you’re worried?”

It was her turn to glare at him. “You are telling me that you’ve noticed nothing in the time he’s been staying with you?”

“Minerva, I see him at night and occasionally during meals.” They hadn’t resumed Occlumency lessons yet, by mutual consent they’d decided to wait a few days to let themselves recover from their ordeal. Severus more than Harry; the Dementors had called forth entirely too many memories he didn’t want viewed and given that the boy had shown he could reverse a Legilimens it seemed a wise precaution. However, Harry had neither objected nor had any more nightmares so Severus judged that tomorrow or the next day would soon enough. “I’ve had work to do, and frankly I’m rather pleased that he’s seen fit to make himself scarce.” Her glare didn’t waver, and he sighed. “He will be accompanying me to Diagon Alley today. If I notice any of the same behavior, I will let you know.” She continued to look at him expectantly. No. No, I will not. You are his head of house—if he is having some kind of problem it is your duty to deal with it.

“He’ll be staying with you for the next few days,” she finally said. “Those days would likely be more pleasant if he was behaving normally.”

More pleasant for whom?! “Tell me, am I the only person that remembers that this is the same child who broke through our guardians on the Stone, snuck into the Chamber of Secrets, secretly conspired with an escaped prisoner—”

“I know his history; I was there as well.”

“Then, in Merlin’s name, why do you think that him behaving slightly more cautiously is a bad thing?”

And now she was looking at him as though he’d turned in a furry saucer for his transfiguration homework rather than the mouse he was supposed to produce. It never had been his best subject. “He’s not being more cautious, Severus, he’s being nervous.”

“And what do you expect me to do about it?”

“Talk to him. Perhaps he’ll open up to you.”

“To me. Yes. I believe you’ve spent a bit too much time in Fudge’s company recently.” I hadn’t actually been aware that stupidity was catching.

“He was willing to tell you about his family. I…had no idea.”

Severus refrained from a sarcastic comment about that particular situation by only the barest margins, and only because she was clearly still quite upset that she hadn’t known. “He didn’t precisely choose to reveal the information…. Occlumency lessons do tend to draw forth unpleasant memories.” Never mind that the amount of force that he’d applied to bring out that particular event had been more than slightly stronger than strictly necessary. “If he chooses to reveal anything else to me, I will deal with it as I see fit,” he finally consented, unwilling to promise anything more specific.

She seemed to sense that that was as far as he was willing to go. “I would expect no less.”

“You could, of course, take the matter up with him yourself.” She looked surprisingly uncertain, and he shook his head. “If you’ve finished your errand, could you possibly take your leave and allow me to perhaps accomplish something this afternoon?”

“Thank you, Severus, and you have a good day as well,” she said with a smile as she turned for the door. “You’ve taken your books down…are you redecorating?”

“Don’t let the panel hit you on the way out.” Whatever she had to say in response to that—and he had no doubt that she’d given some rejoinder; Minerva was one colleague who always gave as good as she got—he missed as he’d already slipped back into his workroom.

Half an hour after her visit, he and Harry were walking to the edges of Hogwarts grounds in silence. It wasn’t a particularly uncomfortable silence, at least as compared to what it would have been a week or two before, but now that Minerva had said something he did notice that it was unusual for him to remain quiet for that long without something occupying his attention. And what, precisely, does she expect me to do at this point? Insist that he chatter? Not to mention that Harry’s silence was hardly the only thing he had to worry about. One of the reasons that he’d decided on apparating to Diagon Alley rather than chancing the floo network was that the Dark Lord had to know that Harry was back at Hogwarts now. During the school year the chances of catching someone useful were fairly remote, but with so few people staying there right now he wouldn’t put it past the creature to set some sort of trap for anyone joining the network at that particular junction. The trick would only work once, but once would be more than enough. Even if it didn’t catch the brat, he’d no doubt love to thin the ranks of professors on the side of light and replace them with a minion or two of his own. And with my luck, they’d likely be even more noxious than Umbridge.

Severus apparated them directly into the apothecary—he was one of the man’s most prolific customers and wasn’t overly worried about anything happening to him there. “Remember your promise,” he ordered Harry under his breath. “So help me, if you even think about pulling one of your disappearing acts I’ll make you sorry that you even thought about getting on the train this year.” He remembered a moment too late the situation at the brat’s relatives’ home and almost wished the words back, but Harry seemed to take the threat in the spirit it was intended and merely shot him a disgruntled glare.

“I said I’d stay with you.”

And Minerva is worried that he’s being overly polite. Come to think of it, his temper had been in evidence this morning after the bookshelf fiasco as well. The other professors simply worried too much about their precious Golden Boy. “See that you do. And remember, we are likely to be observed.” Severus annoyed the store clerk to no end by insisting on seeing the proprietor and refusing to leave his burden with anyone else, but eventually he did get his way and they turned back for the entrance. And so it begins. “Hurry up, Mr. Potter,” he ordered sharply as he crossed the threshold, raising his voice slightly. “Bad enough that Dumbledore insisted that I bring you with me, I’ll not tolerate you wasting my time.”

Harry’s glare darkened and he muttered something that sounded decidedly uncomplimentary under his breath.

“And keep a civil tongue in your head unless you’d like to spend the rest of your time at Hogwarts in detention!”

“Oh, right, because you’re a model of polite behavior.”

That was—almost—a clever response. “Mr. Potter, whether school is in session or not I assure you that you are required to treat me and every other professor with at least a modicum of respect. Now as we stand you’ll be scrubbing cauldrons in your free time until school begins again and for a good while afterwards…unless you’d care to make your situation worse, I suggest that you close your mouth and follow me.”

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of scarlet…another Gryffindor brat who’d likely spread the tale of this conversation to all her little friends. Good. No doubt there were a few members of the other houses around as well, so the idea that he and Potter were still at odds wouldn’t be shaken despite the time they’d been forced to spend together. It wouldn’t be bad to be seen as even more contentious than usual, particularly if he’s going to be serving detentions with me at least two days a week for the foreseeable future. He spun on his heel and strode off down the street without a glance back. The quicker thump of footfalls just behind him indicated that the boy was trotting slightly to keep up with the faster pace his longer legs could set, and he dropped back a bit with the pretense of slowing for the crowd as they approached Gringotts.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” one of the goblins greeted them as they entered. “And Professor Snape as well. How can I help you gentlemen?”

Severus sneered. “It seems that Mr. Potter needs access to his vault.”

“He has his key?”

“Right here,” Harry said, producing it from a fold of his robes.

“Come along, then, unless you don’t want….” he trailed off with a glance at Snape.

“I guess he has to come. I’m not supposed to leave his sight.” Another glare. This one was probably less than half-feigned.

“You guess correctly,” Severus responded. “Let’s have this done with; I have other errands to complete today.” Thanks entirely to an insane divination teacher and a chatty headmaster. He was silent for the ride down to the vault, but Harry apparently knew the goblin—Griphook—well enough to ask a few questions. He realized as he stepped off the cart that he was about to enter perhaps the last place he ever expected…Potter would be having fits. He glanced down at his student who was listening intently to some obscure defensive mechanism the goblin was describing. Well, the elder Potter, at least. The idea of James Potter spinning in his grave as he watched his old schoolyard enemy enter his vault made him feel decidedly…cheerful. “Today, if you don’t mind?”

The two ceased conversation long enough to open the door, and the three of them stepped inside. “How much will you be withdrawing?” Griphook asked.

“Um…Professor, how much do I need for a broom?”

Severus shrugged and moved towards the pile. It was impressive, certainly, but he’d been inside the Prince vaults when they’d been near their peak. “For a decent broom…” he pulled a small pile of coins to one side.

“And if I want one like Sirius got me?”

“Twice that, I would say.” He pulled out the appropriate amount and then glanced at the goblin who’d gone off to examine another pile against the wall of the vault. “You may wish to consider testing several different brooms rather than simply selecting a copy of that which the m—your godfather chose, however,” he offered in a low tone. “You may find one which suits you better.” Harry didn’t look convinced, and he shrugged and gestured at the larger pile. “Regardless, there is more than enough there to purchase whatever type you should desire.” The goblin was returning to them, and he sneered slightly. “Now perhaps we’ve wasted enough time here, and we can finally move on?”

“Yes, Professor.” Harry gathered the coins into his sack and Griphook transported them back to the surface.

Severus stepped out into the sunlight slightly ahead of the brat, turning towards the Quidditch shop, only to be halted by the sight of two blonds blocking the walk in front of them. Merlin’s beard, I do not need this now. He forced a pleasant expression onto his face. “Lucius, Draco, how nice to see you.”