For the first night since he’d been injured Severus hadn’t been able to sleep well, probably because Poppy had finally stopped dosing him daily, and instead of lying and staring at the ceiling he’d ended up getting up early and paging through the book of pros-thesees—properly prostheses—that she had brought him. And wondering just how many muggles there were with missing limbs. Granted the muggle world was several orders of magnitude larger than the Wizarding world, but to have entire catalogues of the things seemed patently ridiculous. Unfortunately, despite the selection, he was fairly limited in what he’d actually be able to use. So many of them depended on some type of electronics to function, and Merlin knew as soon as anything like that got anywhere near magic it was just bound to malfunction. Probably spectacularly. He didn’t particularly want anything like that attached to him. Although Arthur might have some ideas…. The Weasleys certainly kept a collection of fairly random muggle artifacts—like the car—that managed to function somehow. Still, there were a few options to consider. There were ones that looked like real limbs with only limited functionality, ones that looked like nothing more than bits of metal that could actually be used to grip things…Poppy had been enthusiastic about a clamp-like attachment that hooked into the remaining muscles that allowed them to grasp whatever was desired. If she hadn’t insisted on explaining to me the exact technique—in horribly vivid detail—that muggle doctors use to attach it, I might be a bit more enthusiastic as well. Barbarians.

A low buzzing sound alerted him to the time, and he put the catalog down and shrugged on his outer robes, slowing making his way up the stairs towards the Great Hall. His instincts told him that something was wrong as he began to make his way across the floor, and he’d trusted those instincts too long to ignore them, but he reached the High Table without incident. The closest empty seat was between Minerva and Devon, and he regretted the choice a moment later when Devon turned and began to determinedly show him pictures of his new niece, despite his obvious lack of interest in the subject. You’d think she was the first baby he’d ever seen. At least he didn’t have to try and maintain an actual conversation, though, while keeping his eyes on the student tables. No one at Gryffindor seemed to notice anything unusual—no surprise there—but the Slytherin table was uncharacteristically quiet. Ravenclaw was as well, although that was a little more typical…and Hufflepuff seemed to be behaving normally. Perhaps it’s nothing. Certainly a little paranoia on his part was justified at this point, and it wasn’t as if there was anything he could quite put a finger on. When the tables began to clear, he looked down at his plate and realized that it was just as well that he didn’t care a great deal for black pudding because he didn’t actually manage to consume more than a few bites of it during the entire meal. Enough of this. He pushed the plate away and stood.

He didn’t need the warning of ‘constant vigilance’ muttered at him as he made his way from the High Table, although it was something of a relief to know that at least one of the other professors had noticed something was wrong. Granted it was the paranoid lunatic, which didn’t thrill him in regards to the state of his own nerves, but paranoid or not the ex-Auror was damn fast with his wand when the need arose. About a third of the students and a slightly higher percentage of professors had left the room already, but he decided not to tempt fate more than necessary, using the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw table to reach the back of the hall rather than going between Hufflepuff and Slytherin as he normally did.

“Jellylegs!” He turned automatically at the shout at about the same time three or four other jinxes were yelled out. This was wrong—students didn’t just break out dueling in the middle of the Great Hall, especially students in the same house. Especially upper-level students in Slytherin, ones who knew the value of subtlety. Distraction, he recognized abruptly.

He spun back in the direction he’d been facing, the one they’d been trying to keep him from, as a Ravenclaw pointed his wand. “Avada—”

“Stupefy!” Severus snapped, his own wand already at the ready inside his sleeve. The boy—Carmichael, sixth year, passably decent student although he hadn’t opted for NEWT-level potions, Severus recognized automatically—fell backwards.

“Professor, look out!”

He identified Harry’s voice even as he twisted hard to get out of the way of a curse coming from the direction of the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables. It was not, fortunately, a killing curse, merely some sort of horn-growing hex, but it struck one of the younger Gryffindor girls on his other side. She shrieked and, predictably, the entire Gryffindor table reacted by flinging random hexes and jinxes in the direction the spell had come from. Unfortunately, with Gryffindor on one side of the room and Slytherin—where he was almost positive the curse had come from and the Gryffindors seemed to think so too—on the other, the students in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw found themselves in the middle of a minor war. Being children between the ages of about eleven and seventeen, the vast majority joined in quite gleefully. The rest were huddling under the tables. Severus could hear the other professors calling for order, but even Albus’ sonorous charm wasn’t breaking through the shrieking and screaming.

I need to get off this floor! Aside from the fact that he’d already caught some kind of bizarre hair-color change hex, if anyone did get the bright idea to try another killing curse there was all too great a chance that it would strike one of the children. He couldn’t afford to start spelling indiscriminately, even simple stunning spells, with his accuracy as uncertain as it was. One unmoving student he could handle, but this wriggling mass…catching an eleven year old with one meant for a seventeen year old could do real damage, and Merlin knew what would happen if his spell and one of the other spells flying around interacted. As it was he could see two students already who were going to need Poppy’s help to get back to anything even remotely resembling their original appearances. The Gryffindor table had some kind of organization, at least among the older students, it appeared…if he could just get against the wall he could concentrate on shielding but there was no way to get past the students. Maybe—

Out of the corner of his eye he saw several balls of light streak upwards, and then massive fireworks exploded overhead. Most of the screaming cut off in sheer shock as the roar and light temporarily blinded and deafened everyone. Severus fired off a stunner automatically, but it resulted in nothing more than a massive explosion where it struck, and a vanishing spell seemed to make them multiply. There were squeaks out of a few students, but most of them seemed to be too caught up in the display to do anything but stare. It went on for what seemed like forever but was likely no more than a few minutes—probably just long enough for the other professors to discover the same things he had, judging by the sudden increase and then decrease in overhead detonations—and culminated in a giant dragon-head that took a snap at the high table before exploding. And then there was silence.

Severus looked at the remaining professors at the High Table—Albus, Minerva, Alastor, Devon, Rhiannon, Sybil, and Pomona—but all of them looked as stunned as he felt.

“So, uh, what did you think of the show?” two voices asked in unison after a few moments of silence.

Every head in the room—at least those still capable of movement—turned to stare at the Weasley twins. They were side by side, as usual, standing between the end of the Gryffindor table and the High Table.

“We made them for Umbridge—” George began.

“But then she went and left—”

“Before we had a chance to test them—”

“And they were just too good to waste,” Fred finished.

The two of them then gave bright smiles and bowed to a room of still-stunned children and adults, chorusing, “Weasleys’ Wildfire Whiz-bang fireworks. Coming soon to a joke shop near you.”

“As soon as we get one,” Fred added.

“Fifty points to Gryffindor,” Albus finally managed in the silence that followed. “The first class today will be cancelled to allow for everyone to be unhexed, unjinxed, and healed, as necessary. Students please return to your houses and take care of yourselves and your friends; your Heads-of-House will be available should there be anything you cannot handle on your own. Devon, if you’ll get Horace? And Sybil could you find Filius?” Minerva and Pomona were already moving to lead their houses away.

Severus made his way to where Carmichael still lay, stopping one of the other Ravenclaw girls who tried to levitate him. “I have him, go deal with those teeth.”

“Are you all right?” Albus asked, coming down from the table as the last of the students finally filed out. “Is he—?”

“Stupefied. By me; I know of very few curses that start with ‘Avada.’”

“Not a bad plan they came up with,” Alastor observed, coming up behind him. His magical eye was scanning the room at a rapid pace. “Distraction from the Slytherin table while a student you wouldn’t think to suspect does the deed. Wasn’t sure you’d notice.”

I almost didn’t, Severus admitted to himself; if they’d managed a bit more discretion he might not have realized what was happening until it was too late. Not that he planned on passing on that information to anyone else. Instead he shrugged slightly.

“Least we’ve got the little buggers now. It shouldn’t be too difficult to determine who actually did the distracting.”

“And do what? You can’t prove they did it deliberately.”

Alastor’s magic eye snapped around and fixed on Severus. “Are you telling me that you don’t think—”

“I’m telling you that you can’t prove it,” Severus said flatly. “And if you go around accusing everyone like you seem to be planning to, you’re going to do far more harm than simply expelling the one person who actually did try and do damage.” His eyes narrowed. “Too many of them are on the edge as it is; I don’t care to drive any more children to the Dark Lord. Besides which, I doubt many of them had any real idea what was going to happen—if they did they’d have tried something a little more drastic than a horn-growing curse when Carmichael fell.”

“We’ll interview everyone involved and determine what happens then,” Albus said. “Severus is right; without proof we can’t go around suspending or expelling students. Alastor, take that one up to my office and notify the Aurors.” The ex-Auror nodded, looking more than a bit put-out at the decision but hovering the boy away. “And you, Severus, go do something about that hair. Leopardskin doesn’t suit you, and I could see it weighing against you when you give your formal statement.”

///////////

“Hello, Professor,” Harry greeted.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I thought I was going to have to send a house elf to fetch you.”

“No, sir. Sorry I’m late, we started getting Fred and George to do demonstrations in the Common Room, and….” He shrugged. “I just lost track of time.”

“Ah.” The excitement over the day before had faded a bit, although at dinner he’d still heard a few of the children who’d missed it grumbling to their friends. The Weasley twins were, of course, celebrities. Much to their delight and several of their professors’ dismay, although Filius had done a bit of grumbling himself that he’d missed the display. “Are you ready to begin?”

Harry shifted a bit. “I…he was trying to hurt you, wasn’t he? Carmichael. I couldn’t hear what he said, but he had his wand pointed at you and I know he isn’t at school anymore.”

Carmichael was being held at the Ministry of Magic, actually, pending a hearing in front of the Wizengamot sometime in the next few days. “It’s nothing for you to concern yourself about.”

“It is if somebody’s trying to kill you!”

“Mr. Potter, despite what you and your little friends might think, it is not your duty to take care of the entire Wizarding world. That is the job of the adults around you.” Despite how the majority of them generally behave.

He didn’t look particularly convinced.

“The matter has been handled. You are to concentrate on your classes. Which reminds me, what has Ala—Professor Moody—been teaching you in DADA?”

“Professor?”

“You, your two shadows, and a couple of the other older Gryffindors were certainly doing something in concert yesterday.”

“Oh. That’s…it’s not anything Professor Moody taught us. It’s something Ron and Hermione and Neville owled each other about while you and I were gone. When we all got back to school and it was obvious that Umbridge still wasn’t going to teach us anything they told me about it and we sort of decided we’d teach ourselves. We didn’t have time to do too much before Professor Moody came, but we’d figured out a couple new blocking spells and some other hexes so….” He shrugged. “Ron yelled at Neville and Ginny to block for all of us since they were on the side of the table closest to the rest of the room, and then me and him and Hermione did the hexing part from behind them.”

“Hm.” Not a bad plan, actually. Then again, the youngest Weasley boy had been the one to defeat Minerva’s chess game first year so it stood to reason that he had some grasp of strategy. “Well, I’m fairly certain that you’ll be learning plenty in Professor Moody’s class and won’t have need to go looking for trouble on your own.” Not that that’s ever stopped you, of course.

“No, sir. Although I have to get the twins to show me how to do those fireworks.”

Severus didn’t particularly want to think just how much trouble there would be if random students started mimicking the Weasley twins’ tricks. “Not in school, if you please. Now, Occlumency?”

“Yes, sir.” He set his wand on the table and took a seat across from Severus. “Ready.”

“Legilimens.” Attic…attic…muggles. Come on, boy, push. As before, he could feel the pressure on his mind, but there just wasn’t enough force behind it. He pulled back out. “You’re going to have to push harder, Harry.”

“I’m trying, Professor. Really. I just…I can’t make you move. Well, unless I’m really angry, but….”

Severus frowned for a moment. “Then get angry.”

“I thought you said I couldn’t count on that.”

“And you can’t, at least not as a sustained source of power, but once I’m in your mind you need to push me out. That means using whatever methods you have at your disposal.”

He frowned slightly. “What if I can’t get that mad?”

“Harry, we’ve known each other for nearly five years now. I imagine I’ve done something in that amount of time to make you angry at me.” Harry flushed, and he gave a quick smirk. “I thought so. And please remember, in the final equation it’s the Dark Lord you’re doing this to eject—you certainly have reason to be angry at him.”

The boy gave a sharp nod at that. “Ready.”

“Legilimens.” He used more force this time and pushed past the attics fairly quickly, only to find himself dodging madly around the Whomping Willow. Bloody hell! When was this and what was he thinking?!

“Protego!”

Severus—and the armchair he was sitting in—crashed backwards, and he grunted as his skull made contact with the floor over the back of the chair. Ouch.

“Professor!” Harry’s face appeared over him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I was trying to make myself angry and—”

“I would say that it worked,” Severus interrupted dryly, rolling to a sitting position and then standing slowly. “However I was under the impression that it was understood that you would merely push me from your mind. Throwing me to the ground was, perhaps, a bit unnecessary don’t you think? I believe I might have mentioned that if the Dark Lord was standing in front of you, his Legilimency skills should not be your major concern?”

“Yes, sir. I really didn’t mean to knock you over like that.”

“I rather assumed you didn’t, otherwise this conversation would have taken a considerably less pleasant turn.” He set the chair upright and handed the boy back his wand.

“Are we done?”

“No, but quite frankly if you can do that wandless there’s no real point in keeping it from you.” He’d assumed the emotional content from the memories they had viewed had allowed the boy to do wandless magic before, if just trying to make himself angry had allowed him to tap it Severus wasn’t any less safe if the boy had his wand than if he didn’t. He’d known the boy was good at spellwork, but he hadn’t realized quite how good. It’s probably safer if he has it, actually, at least the wand gives him focus. “Although I do ask that you don’t point it in my direction while we are doing this. Or ever, for that matter.”

“Yes, Professor.” He tucked it into the sleeve of his robe.

“Now, if you’re ready, we’ll try that again. And this time kindly remember that you’re trying to knock me from your mind, not knock me unconscious.”

“I’m ready.”

Half an hour later Harry had successfully thrown Severus from his mind twice more. Unfortunately, on both occasions he’d also used wandless magic to send him flying backwards as well. The boy had been properly apologetic, but Severus still had a headache. “All right, before we next meet I want you to practice getting angry enough to summon the force to throw me from your mind without invoking any wandless magic. At all. I don’t want a feather to float, I don’t want a candle to light, I just want you to throw up an Occlumency shield. Understood?”

Harry nodded quickly. “Definitely. Are you sure you shouldn’t go see Madam Pomfrey?”

“I’ll be fine, Harry.” In a day or two. “Go on.”

His pride kept him from dropping back into the chair and rubbing the knot on the back of his head until the boy had left. There was a bruise potion in his stores, but he’d take the time to collect his thoughts first.

A rumble at the floo caught his attention, and he acknowledged the caller slightly less than gracefully. “What?”

“Severus, if you’ve got a moment could you please come up to my study?”

He sighed. “On my way.” With a minor concussion, but on my way.

He was a bit surprised to find Minerva there as well, and both she and Albus looked quite solemn. “Severus?” Minerva asked. “Are you all right?”

Perhaps he hadn’t neatened himself up quite as well as he’d thought. “Harry’s Occlumency lesson…he’s discovered that he can throw me from his mind, but at this point it seems to go hand in hand with a physical throw as well.”

“He attacked you?”

Severus waved her off. “Not intentionally. We’re still working out the details. What did you need to see me about? Has a hearing time been set for the Carmichael boy?” Not that he particularly wanted to go to the Ministry, but the sooner it was over with the better.

Albus shook his head, and a decidedly displeased look crossing his face. “Fudge exercised his ‘rights’ as the Minister of Magic and decreed that since there was no ‘conclusive proof’ that the boy intended to harm you, there was no need to hold a hearing.”

“Of course, I should have let him kill me before accusing him of trying to kill me. What was I thinking?”

Minerva shook her head. “He’s also insisting that the boy be allowed to return to Hogwarts…that a ‘juvenile prank’ shouldn’t bar him from gaining an education.”

It wouldn’t be the first time someone who attempted to murder me was kept on the grounds, Severus noted, although he didn’t bother to voice his objection. “So he’ll be coming back, then.”

“No.” Albus’ voice was firm. “I’ve made that perfectly clear, and Fudge isn’t quite willing to challenge openly just yet.”

It was the ‘yet’ part of that that worried Severus. “What do you think he plans to try? By removing Umbridge he’s lost leverage here.” It had been a dumb thing to do, but then Fudge had never been noted for his foresight.

“I don’t know, and frankly, it worries me. However, that isn’t what I brought you here to discuss.”

Severus frowned. There’s worse? Just what I needed to hear.

“As you know, Horace was only willing to fill in for you temporarily. I’ve convinced him to stay until the winter holidays, but after that we will need you to resume your duties as a professor. Do you think you will be ready?”

“That depends on what Poppy is able to come up with. She had a few suggestions that look promising, but until I’m able to actually try them….” He shrugged, trying not to betray his uncertainty. Clamps, and muscles, and everything else that had to be dealt with…. “There is really no way of knowing.”

Albus’ eyes twinkled slightly. “Well, I have no doubt you’ll be back in top form in no time. However, while we’ll be glad to have you back as a professor, I’m not certain that keeping you on as the head of Slytherin house is such a wise idea.”

He was right, of course, especially since no matter what they claimed Severus was fairly certain that at least a few of the Deatheaters’ children did have some idea of what was planned for that morning. Or if they didn’t, they will as soon as their parents learn that the attempt on my life was unsuccessful. As Head-of-House it was his duty to be available to his students whenever they needed him—setting up an ambush would be all too easy. “What do you propose to do?”

“I believe Aurora would be willing to take the position.”

Sinstra wouldn’t be a bad choice; she’d been in Slytherin herself once upon a time so she’d have a fair idea of the prejudices facing the students. As well as how to deal with them—the students as well as the prejudices—which someone from one of the other houses might not be so capable of doing. Still, the idea…bothered…him, more than he’d expected it would. “I see.”

“It has nothing to do with your competency, Severus,” Minerva hastened to add. “Perhaps in the future when things have settled down….”

‘In the future.’ It wasn’t something he let himself consider all that often, and this was no exception. “It is a matter of safety. I do realize that.” Under other circumstances he might actually be grateful for the consideration. “And I’m hardly the best person to advise them when the majority will refuse to trust me.” He nodded sharply and stood. “Very well, if that will be all, then?”

Both seemed on the verge of saying something else but managed to hold their tongues, and Albus waved at him to go.