Draco's face was a mixture of surprise, trepidation, and sullen anger.

"I don't exactly know," he admitted.

"You don't exactly know?" Severus' voice was sharp. He shot Draco an incredulous look, but there was no time for expounding on the stupidity of casting an unknown spell, not when it could be wreaking havoc on Potter's mind or body.

Potter seemed peaceful enough, it was true, just lying in Severus' arms, his breathing deep and even, but they had to find out for sure.

Severus gave the blond boy his fiercest glare. "If you value your life, Draco, you will fetch Pomfrey and Dumbledore from the feast, and you will tell them what you've done. I'm taking Potter to the infirmary."

Without sparing Draco another glance, he swept off to a small barren room nearby where there was a fireplace connected to Hogwarts' internal Floo system. A moment later he and Potter were in the infirmary, a sterile white place: white walls, white sheets on the narrow beds, and white curtains at the windows.

Severus laid the boy on the nearest cot and then pulled his wand from his sleeve and began running through some diagnostic spells. He hadn't gotten very far when there was a whooshing sound behind him as the Floo roared to life again. Severus didn't bother turning around, but kept on with his work as Poppy Pomfrey and Albus Dumbledore rushed to join him.

"How is he?" Albus asked in an uncharacteristically tense voice.

Severus shook his head. "Nothing seems seriously wrong. He's underweight and suffering a bit from sleep deprivation, but there's nothing that accounts for this deep unconsciousness."

Poppy was bustling about, running through her own diagnostic spells, and Albus moved closer to Potter's bedside and joined in. For a while the three of them worked over Potter, checking everything from his heart rate to his brain waves. Finally they stepped aside and looked at one another.

Poppy spoke up, "So far as I can tell, Harry seems to be in fairly good health. As Severus noted, he needs to eat and sleep more. But whatever spell Draco cast, it doesn't seem to have caused any injury." She looked slightly bewildered. "I don't know why he's unconscious. I'm going to spell a nutritive potion directly into his system, but I don't know what else to do."

Albus ran a gentle hand through Potter's dark hair before turning away.

"I think it's time I spoke with Mr. Malfoy." His voice was grim. "Severus, you're his Head of House. Would you like to be present as well?"

"Yes, I suppose so." Severus nodded.

Albus turned to the medi-witch. "Poppy, will you let Minerva know what has happened? And ask her to keep quiet about it as well." He hesitated; then said, "On second thought, she may tell Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. Otherwise, they're liable to break through my gargoyles to tell me Harry's missing. But she must stress to them to keep this information to themselves. I think the fewer people know about this, the better."

"Of course, Albus," Poppy agreed. She Summoned the nutritive potion and Albus and Severus went over to the fireplace while she was tending to Potter.

Severus took some Floo powder from a jar on the mantle and Albus called, "My office," as he stepped into the grate. Severus followed and after a rush of green flames, he was in the headmaster's office. It was a spacious circular room with a great mahogany desk, a couple of stuffed armchairs, several spindle-legged tables with silver contraptions atop them, and a bronze stand upon which a magnificent red and gold feathered bird was perched.

Severus had half expected Draco to be waiting for them, but the room was empty. Albus sank into one of the armchairs and motioned for Severus to take the other one.

"Severus, Draco has told me his version of events, but I'd like to hear it from you, please," Albus requested.

So Severus told him how he had been keeping an eye on Potter, how the boy had vacillated about going into the Hall for the feast, but had finally started for the stairs, but not in time to avoid the confrontation with Draco. He explained about the duel he had interrupted and finished with telling of how Draco's last shot had knocked Harry out and how Severus had caught the boy and taken him to the infirmary after sending Draco for help.

He tried to sound as objective as possible, though he knew some of his dislike for Potter bled through, as well as his sympathy for Draco. Not that he condoned what young Malfoy had done. Severus had no patience with stupidity, for one thing, and for another, he couldn't help feeling concerned about Potter, no matter his personal feelings for the boy. Without Potter to defeat the Dark Lord, they were all doomed. And he was just slightly worried about the boy himself. Potter was one of the children in Severus' care, after all, even if he was a spoiled, conceited little princeling who needed to be put in his place.

Draco, on the other hand, had to deal with an abusive father and a mother who didn't care two Knuts for him. They showered Draco with all the material goods he could want, but never gave him one moment of what he truly craved: their affection and approval.

Severus understood exactly what the boy suffered, even how Draco tended to lash out at others and isolate himself, not allowing himself to grow close to any one, to develop friendships that might have helped to soothe his anger and hurt, but would also leave him vulnerable to more rejection and pain.

Oh, yes, Severus understood Draco.

Albus listened to the tale in silence, only nodding once when Severus had finished and then going to open the door to his office, saying, "Draco is supposed to be waiting in the hall outside. I'll let him in."

A minute later he had returned with the blond boy in tow. Draco looked at Severus as he followed the headmaster in, and in that moment he was a frightened child. Severus felt a pang of compassion for him, but he kept his face impassive. There would have to be serious consequences for the boy's actions, and Severus couldn't shield him from them.

Albus took his chair behind his desk this time and simply stared at Draco with a stern, disappointed look. Any hint of vulnerability on Draco's part had vanished and he stared back with his chin lifted defiantly.

Albus broke the silent standoff. "We need to know the spell you used, Mr. Malfoy."

"Well, Professor, I've used a dozen spells today. Which one in particular are you referring to?" Draco drawled.

"This is not the time to play games, Mr. Malfoy," Albus' voice was like ice. "If you are not honest and forthcoming with me, I have no compunction about bringing Aurors into this situation. As you are close to being of age, and as the crime you have committed is against a rather famous and well-liked person, I have no doubts that the Ministry would treat you as an adult and send you to Azkaban."

"Crime?" Draco faltered. Just for an instant, his façade cracked. "Potter's all right, isn't he? He's not dead or anything..."

"Mr. Potter is expected to make a full recovery," Albus answered. "But casting an unknown spell against another person is most definitely a crime."

"Not to mention an incredibly stupid thing to do," Severus muttered.

"Now, I'll ask one more time, what was that spell?" Albus' face and voice were controlled but dangerous. Severus couldn't remember ever seeing him truly angry with a student before, and he couldn't help feeling a little relieved that that piercing gaze and cold tone weren't directed at him. It occurred to him that as terrible as Voldemort was, Albus Dumbledore could be even more frightening if he chose.

Draco must have been thinking along those same lines, for he grew pale and when he spoke, his voice was quiet and no longer insolent.

"I really don't know what the spell was."

"Say the incantation," Albus ordered.

Draco said the words, but they were unfamiliar to Severus. He shook his head slightly when Albus turned a questioning glance at him.

"I believe it's an ancient form of Latin, but I'm not sure," Albus murmured before returning his full attention to the blond boy standing in front of his desk. "Where did you learn this spell?"

"It's in a book...from the library at home. My father taught me a couple of other spells from it before, but they just caused boils or this really bad rash, but nothing that couldn't be cleared up pretty quick," Draco told them.

"Where is this book now?" Severus demanded.

"Here, in my trunk in the dorm," Draco turned to him. "Professor, couldn't...?"

"We need the book," Severus interrupted. He stood. "If you agree, Albus, I will accompany Mr. Malfoy to his room and retrieve it."

Albus nodded, but didn't take his gaze off Draco. "I hope you comprehend the seriousness of your actions, Mr. Malfoy. As I said, Mr. Potter will recover, but that spell could just as easily have been fatal or permanently debilitating. If that had been the case, there would be no way to fix things, to make everything right again. And you would most certainly be facing a trial and, very likely, a long prison sentence. I haven't decided yet what your punishment will be, but you may consider yourself on probation for the rest of your time at Hogwarts."

He nodded at Severus, who motioned for Draco to precede him out of the office and down the winding staircase to the hall.

Once they were alone in the corridors, making their way back to the Slytherin dormitories, Draco exploded.

"How dare he speak to me like that? Maybe I won't even bother coming back here, I'll apply to Durmstrang..."

"Durmstrang won't take you," Severus told him bluntly. "There's a new headmaster there now, and he's trying to shake Durmstrang's association with the Dark Arts. The Malfoy name would be a hindrance, not an asset. I doubt even your considerable fortune would be enough to get you admitted."

Draco fell into a sullen silence and when they reached the dormitory he fetched the book and handed it over without saying a word.

Severus had him mark the page where he'd found the spell, and then frowned at him. "You are to stay here for the rest of night, and there had best not be any more trouble, Draco. You're on thin ice."

He left Draco alone, the other Slytherins were likely still feasting upstairs, and quickly Flooed back to Albus' office. They examined the book together.

It was obviously a very old book, its covers were worn and cracked with age, and it was impossible to even tell their original colour. They had faded to an indistinct muddy greenish-brown, and the pages were handwritten rather than typed.

The script inside was tiny and cramped...rather like Granger's handwriting, Severus thought dryly, though he had to admit that hers was considerably neater. Albus raised one hand and several books came flying from the shelves to land in a precise stack on his desk.

The headmaster sighed. "This is ancient Latin, and I fear it will take some time to translate. Fortunately, I do have some texts on archaic languages, but it will likely take me hours, perhaps even days, to figure out. Severus, if you wish to retire for the evening, go ahead. There's no need for both of us to lose sleep."

"Very well, Albus, if you're sure there's nothing I can do to help," Severus agreed.

"In the morning, you could notify the Dursleys that their nephew will be delayed at school for a brief while, and that we will provide transportation for him back to Privet Drive when he is able to travel," Albus said.

Severus nodded and left his old friend and mentor's office. For some unexplained reason, he felt compelled to go by the infirmary and check on Potter again. Poppy informed him that there was no change in the boy's condition and Severus could, in fact, see that for himself. Potter was still lying on the bed, pale and unconscious. Poppy had transfigured his clothes into pyjamas and he was covered up to his waist by the white cotton sheets.

Granger and Weasley were with him now, too. Obviously, Minerva had already informed them of their friend's plight. They didn't notice Severus. They were too busy fussing over Potter, and the Potions professor left before they saw him. The last thing he wanted tonight was more teenage angst and drama. Thank goodness it was almost summer and he would have two blissful months of peace and quiet.

***

In his office, Albus Dumbledore used his translation books to study the mysterious spell that had been cast on Harry Potter, his face growing ever more grim as he read.