Three days after Trelawney's prediction, Harry found himself awakened at practically the crack of dawn by Rosie whimpering urgently.  The young wizard was sorely tempted to just roll over and go back to sleep, but the thought of having to clean up after his dog because he was too lazy to take her outside convinced him to abandon his warm nest of blankets.

He hastily pulled on his trainers, a pullover, and some faded sweatpants before clipping the leash to Rosie's collar and taking her outside. Rosie gratefully rushed over to the nearest tree. 

Harry rubbed his eyes and peered at the sunlit streaked sky.  It was far too early to be up, he thought grumpily.  Only his father and his crazy beagle enjoyed waking up at this hour of the morning.  He pulled off his glasses and rubbed them with his shirt tail, then jammed them back on. 

To his astonishment, he saw a figure moving across the lawn towards the castle, running with an easy lope.  "Who in blazes is that?" he muttered, wondering if he were seeing things.

But no, Rosie jerked her head up from sniffing the grass and whimpered, her tail wagging frantically.  She clearly recognized the figure jogging along the path from Hagrid's cottage.  Harry glanced at his watch.  It was ten to six in the morning, for Merlin's sake! Whoever was running at this hour was seriously touched in the head.

Then the figure blurred in mid-stride and Harry gasped as the runner became a sleek golden cougar.    

"Merlin!" he exclaimed, whistling in awe as the cougar bounded around the lawn and the greenhouse, moving with the unbelievable grace and quickness that only a cat could manage. 

Rosie whined, backing against Harry's legs.  Her nose told her that the human she had smelled previously was gone and in its place was an unfamiliar rank odor of a large predator. 

Harry knelt to scratch the puppy between the ears.  "It's okay, Rosie," he soothed.  "I won't let the cougar hurt you, girl."

Rosie whimpered and licked Harry's fingers, snuggling close to her master for reassurance.  Harry continued to stroke the agitated beagle all the while watching the cougar running in and out of the trees in admiration. 

But the cougar drew her head up as the breeze brought Harry and Rosie's scent to her nostrils and between one breath and the next a golden glow covered the feline.  When it vanished, Aria stood in the center of the path, her amber eyes sparkling, waving at her friend and his dog.

Harry waved back, wishing, not for the first time, that he knew how to shift shapes.  It looked like so much fun.  "Hi, Aria!"

"Morning, Harry," she greeted, jogging up to him.  Her golden-brown hair was unraveling itself, as always, from the knot she had it in, and straggling haphazardly about her face, in spite of her rainbow sweatband.  "Didn't think anybody else around here was crazy enough to wake up at this hour except me.  Or maybe Professor Snape."

Harry chuckled.  "Yeah, he's another one who gets up with the birds.  But I didn't have a choice.  Her Highness needed to go out," he indicated Rosie with his foot, who had quit leaning against his leg and now bounded forward to say hello to Aria in her typical happy-go-lucky beagle fashion.

"Hello, baby," crooned the girl, laughing as the dog licked her whole face, wagging her tail so hard it blurred.  "It's not your fault your master's a slug-a-bed, now is it?"

"Hey! I am not," objected Harry.  "I'm up, aren't I?"

"With an attitude, Mr. Snape," teased Remus's niece.

"Ha! You think I'm bad, just wait till you see my dad when he's grouchy first period," Harry warned, smiling.  "He could make Oscar the Grouch look like a ray of sunshine."

Aria raised an eyebrow.  "You're putting me on."

"No, I'm not.  Honest.  Just don't tell him I said that," he added hastily.

"Why not?"

"Because I'll get in trouble."

"What will he do, send you to your room?" laughed the girl.

"Worse.  He'll . . .uh . . .do what he did last time I called him that."

"What?"

"Tickle me until I almost wet myself," Harry admitted, flushing.  "Only he promised me that if I ever called him that again, next time he'd tickle me with a feather for fifteen minutes.  He told me he did it to your uncle once and nearly made him wet himself."

"No way!" Aria gasped, her eyes glowing.  Then she started to laugh.  "Oh, but that's too funny! Oh my God!"

Her laughter was infectious, and Harry found himself joining in.  Rosie barked excitedly and ran in circles around them, wrapping the leash about their legs and making them nearly fall.

"Hey!" Harry yelled, reaching out his hands just in time to catch Aria before she fell on top of him.  "Quit it, you crazy dog! Uh, sorry about this, Aria." He felt himself blush even redder.

But Aria just shook her head, for truth be told, she didn't really mind being in Harry's arms.  But then she felt a bit awkward and tried to detangle herself from the leash, which was wound tightly around their ankles. She snapped her fingers at the beagle, trying to get Rosie to run the opposite way around them and so free them from the leash, which was slowly cutting off their circulation.

Rosie however, refused to move, being contrary, or perhaps she was playing matchmaker, in her own insane beagle way.  She gazed up at the two, tongue lolling, smiling her happy beagle grin, utterly oblivious to the fact that two of her favorite people were slowly experiencing the excruciating sensation of having their feet amputated.

          "Ahhh!" Harry groaned.  "Er . . .Rosie, I'd like to be able to walk to class on my own two feet, you crazy hound!"

          Aria grimaced as well.  "Hold on a second, Harry." She muttered a summoning charm, and a strip of beef jerky appeared in her hand.  "Look, Rosie! Want a treat, girl?"

          The beagle perked up at the word "treat" and drooled all over their shoes as Aria held the treat just out of reach of the dog's very sensitive nose.  Rosie bayed and tried to snatch the treat from Aria's hand, but the girl was too quick, and made a circling motion with it, causing the beagle to run around them in a circle, unwinding the leash.

          After three or four revolutions, the leash was unwound and Harry and Aria stepped free of the constricting leather cord, and Aria told Rosie to sit, then gave her the treat.  It vanished down the beagle's throat in a twinkling.

Harry shook his head and knelt to massage some feeling back into his feet.  "Dog, you are more trouble than you're worth sometimes," he scolded gently.  "First you wake me up at the crack of dawn and then you nearly cut my feet and Aria's feet off with your stupid leash.  What am I going to do with you?"

Rosie just gave him one of her patented wide-eyed looks, the kind that never failed to make his irritation melt into a puddle of goo. 

"Take her off the leash next time, Mr. Brilliant," suggested his friend with a grin.  "Animals deserve to run free once in awhile."

"Right." He reached out and unsnapped the leash, setting the little dog free.  With the charm Severus had placed on her collar, Rosie couldn't wander off the grounds, and the charm would protect her from most natural and magical predators by Apparating the dog away from them if one should happen to corner the little beagle and attempt to harm her.  It was a nifty bit of spellwork, and Severus had admitted the charm was one Lily had invented and taught him.  Lily had been an ace at charms as well as potions.

It was more proof that Severus really loved the little dog, for all his grumbling about how the dog was a menace and if she chewed one more pair of his boots he was going to invent a potion that used beagle parts.  Harry had been reasonably sure Severus was kidding when he'd said that . . .then again, he'd been furious after Rosie had chewed his best pair of suede boots, though how she'd gotten them out of a locked closet was a mystery to both of them.  Perhaps beagles learned a bit of magic by association with their wizard masters?   

Rosie sniffed eagerly, then her tail stiffened and she gave a soft bay and began running through the grass, trailing some luckless rabbit or squirrel or some other animal.  Harry watched the hunting dog until all he could see was the tip of her tail. 

"Wonder what she's got this time?"

"A rabbit, most likely," answered Aria knowingly. 

"How can you tell? Can you, uh, understand animals?"

"No, what do you think I am, Dr.  DoLittle?"

"You know about Muggle fiction?"

"Sure, my mom's grandparents were Muggles, and I used to spend a good part of my summer with them.  They were ultra rich and they had every kid's book known to man in their library.  I read that one when I was seven. How do you know about Muggle fiction, Harry? Weren't both of your parents wizards?"

"Umm . . .yeah, but my grandparents on my mum's side were Muggles and so was my dad's father.  But I was raised by my aunt and uncle mostly, after my mum died." Harry explained, telling her of how he'd been hidden away when he was two as James's adopted son and how Severus had lost all memory of his child, so he thought Harry was James's real son, until he'd received Lily's last gift to him-the Pensieve with his true memories. 

Aria listened avidly until he was finished then said, "Wow, you've had some crazy life, Snape.  Kind of like mine, now that I think about it.  Both of us are orphans, sort of, with one parent dead and the other alive.  ‘Cept in my case , my mom's not right in the head, so she can't take care of me like your dad can you."

"Merlin, what happened to her?" Harry blurted before he thought better of it.

Aria's eyes darkened.  "She was stung by a manticore.  The poison . . .she had a bad allergic reaction to it, worse than normal . . .it damaged her brain . . . so my dad had to put her in a special hospital.  She doesn't really remember anything, the poison regressed her to about five, so she thinks her parents are still alive and . . .well, there's not much the Healers can do for her.  I was nine when it happened and the year before that, my Gran Lara died.  She was my great-grandma, really, but I never called her that.  I never really knew my dad's side of the family, he didn't get along that well with them, not even Uncle Remmy."

"Why not? Remus is real easy to like."

"I know, but Dad had issues with his werewolf side, he wanted Uncle Remmy to agree to be a test subject for an article and he wouldn't and Dad's asking made my grandparents mad and they told my dad not to come around until he could treat his brother like a person.  So Dad left and never went back.  Least I never thought he did." Aria sighed.  "I loved my dad, don't get me wrong, but sometimes . . .he could be an honest to God jerk.  Imagine letting your whole family go just because you couldn't swallow your pride and admit you were wrong to treat your kid brother like a lab specimen.  I could never do that.  If I ever had a brother or a sister, I'd never act like that."

"Me either." Harry said quietly.  "I'm real sorry about your parents.  D'you ever see your mum?"

"Sometimes, like once a year maybe, on Christmas or sometimes her birthday, when Dad took me to the hospital.  We used to bring her flowers and candy, she loves Godiva Chocolate and roses.  But we never stayed very long, I think it really bothered my dad that she couldn't remember him, and he made me leave after a few hours."

Harry remained silent, thinking to himself that it was rather selfish of her father to deprive his daughter of her mother, even if her mother didn't remember her, Aria still needed to see her.  And the woman was his wife, and he should have been able to handle a day in her company, even if it did make him sad that she couldn't remember him.  He was an adult, he should have known how to handle it better.  My dad would've, Harry thought with a small glow of pride.  Severus had never shrank from unpleasantness, no matter how much it bothered him personally, else he would have never been Dumbledore's chief spy for so long.

"Well, I guess whether or not I see her will be up to Uncle Remmy now, seeing as he's my guardian," Aria said matter-of-factly.  "God, but that sounds so weird.  He used to play hide-and-seek and stuff with me when I was little and I haven't seen him since I was seven and now he's like my father, kind of, and I really don't mind all that much . . .but God, it's strange . . ."

"You don't like being at Hogwarts then?"

"No, I really like it here.  I'm glad I can stay here for the rest of the term, we moved around so much after mom's accident that I always felt like a gypsy, know what I mean? I like being able to wake up in the same place for longer than a week and see the same people.  Except Draco Malfoy.  Him I could do without, the arrogant snotrag."

Harry couldn't help himself.  He started laughing at the way she described Draco, because it was so true and yet hearing it come out of her mouth was so funny. 

"You and me both.  He's been a first class pain in my arse since I was a first year.  I might've ended up in Slytherin if it weren't for meeting him."

"Oh? Too bad.  Figures, he'd screw everything up," Aria remarked.  "I swear, if he starts with me one more time about how Slytherins shouldn't associate with Gryffindors I'm gonna clock him one.  Who the hell does he think he is, my father?"

"No, he just wants to be able to control you, the way he does every other girl in his year. They all worship the ground he walks on."

"Ugh! Not me! He can go whistle Dixie for all I care, the spoiled brat! I hate his sort and I wouldn't go out with him for all the gold in Gringotts."

Harry smiled upon hearing that.  It was music to his ears.  For once, it looked like the Malfoy name and money wasn't able to get Draco everything he wanted.  "By the way, I love the name you called him.  Malfoy the Boy Toy.  Brilliant!"

Aria threw back her head and laughed.  "Yeah, that was pretty good.  Don't ask me where I came up with it though.  Must have been divine inspiration or something.  Still, it does fit."

"Like a pair of custom dress robes," chuckled Harry wickedly. 

From far away, he heard Rosie baying.  He cocked his head.  "Sounds like she's treed something.  Want to fly with me and find out?" He summoned his Meteor with a quick wave of his wand. 

"Why not?"

"Call your broom then."

"Don't need to, Snape.  Why would I use a broom when I've got wings?"

Harry was puzzled.  "Wings? What d'you mean, Lupin?"

"You mean your dad didn't tell you I'm a shape-slipper?"

Harry shook his head. 

"That means I can change into more than one animal shape at will."

"I saw you become a whopping big cat-a cougar is what you Americans call it, right? I saw one on Animal Planet." Harry clarified.

"Yup.  And my other shape is this one."

The same blazing golden glow enveloped her for a second time and before Harry could say Quidditch, Aria had become a beautiful golden hawk. 

"Oh! Awesome!"

The hawk looked at him and made a soft chirruping noise, almost like laughter.  Then it launched itself in the air, circling above him impatiently. 

Harry mounted his broom, understanding the challenge the hawk silently was implying.  "Let's see who's faster, Lupin, my broom or your wings!" he called, then kicked the Meteor into its fastest speed.

The broom blasted off like the asteroid it was named for, carrying Harry through the air at an unbelievable speed.  For one instant, he thought he'd lost the hawk with his sudden streak of speed.

But no, here she came, flying at an astonishing speed, a blur of golden feathers, to shoot past him with a sharp screech.

The Gryffindor Seeker gaped.  Bloody hell, no hawk can fly that fast!

Except this was no ordinary hawk, he reminded himself, and set out to catch her.

He soon discovered that Aria could fly like a whirlwind ace, better even than a Seeker.  She knew instinctively how to use the wind and the air currents to her best advantage and she could turn and corner like a pro.  Harry was both amazed and chagrined, for no student at Hogwarts had ever managed to outfly him before. 

Merlin, it's a good thing she can't fly like this on a broom, she'd win the Quidditch Cup for sure if she was made Seeker.  That'd really get Malfoy's goat! He leaned forward over the broomstick, trying his hardest to pass the gleaming golden avian.

But Aria was not willing to give him an inch, and she tapped into a jetstream, allowing her to fly without expending too much effort, and kept her three foot lead. 

She soared in graceful spirals over the grounds, her hawk-sharp sight picking out the small tricolor beagle easily from among the stand of poplars. 

Rosie was baying triumphantly and standing up on her hindlegs, pointing her nose at the squirrel she had chased up the tree. 

Aria trilled a congratulations, circling above the tree and startling the squirrel into doomed immobility. 

The squirrel must have assumed it was time to meet the Great Squirrel God that morning, trapped between a beagle below and a hawk above.  Then, if that were not enough, here came another human doing what no human should be doing, flying!

Harry pulled up just before the poplar and noted the frightened squirrel clinging to the branch.  "This really isn't your day, huh, squirrel?" he said sympathetically.  "Don't worry, you're not going to be supper.  At least not today." He swooped down and called Rosie. 

The beagle came after Harry whistled a few times, reluctant to give up the chase.  Harry conjured up her sling and once she was fastened securely in the harness, took off.  "Let's see what you think of this, Miss Lupin! The amazing Seeker Snape and his awesome flying beagle!"

Aria gave a startled squawk after seeing Rosie accompanying her master, but she was not fazed for long and quickly hastened after them, until she was flying level with them, her yellow eyes glittering with merriment.

Harry flew with Rosie for about ten minutes until he looked at his watch and realized he'd be late for class unless he hurried back to the castle.  He bit back a groan and quickly landed, unwrapping Rosie from her sling. 

"Go play with Hagrid and Fang, girl!" he instructed.  "Hey, Aria!" he called up to the circling shape.  "We'd better get back, before we're late for class."  Sure hope she can hear me and understand me way up there.

Apparently, she could, for a moment later she glided down and with another flash of golden light became a girl once more.

"Oh, that was fun! I haven't flown like that since I left the rain forest and my old teacher, Master Velasquez!" She was grinning from ear to ear. 

"Me either," Harry admitted.  "You can fly wicked fast, Aria.  No wonder you don't use a broom."

"Umm . . .yeah, well, you're not bad either, Snape," she said, and blushed.

"Thanks." He began to walk back up to the castle quickly.  Maybe getting up at the crack of dawn wasn't so terrible after all.

• * * * * * *

Normally, Rosie would have done as her Beta-Master-Harry had ordered and gone to play with Fang, the way she usually did when he went to sit inside and do nothing but play with that strange bird feather all day, which she wasn't allowed to chew.  But Harry had been in such a rush to get to class that he'd forgotten one very important thing.

He'd forgotten to feed Rosie.

Now any beagle owner will tell you that a beagle's greatest motivator is their stomach.  Beagles love to eat, anything and often.  Rosie was no exception, and right then her stomach was crying out for food.  So she followed her nose down to Hagrid's cottage, where an enticing smell of eggs and bacon lingered. 

But when she scratched upon the door of the hut and barked, the big gamekeeper didn't open the door.  Rosie sniffed deeply, then sat down and whined.  Her superior nose told her that Hagrid and Fang were not at home, and the lovely smell of breakfast was only a lingering scent in the air. 

The disappointed beagle sniffed and snuffled all about the cottage for scraps, but found nothing save one of Hagrid's smelly old boots.  And while the boot was good for chewing and big enough for her to lie in while she gnawed a lace, it did nothing to quiet her complaining belly.  She was hungry and getting hungrier by the second.

Harry didn't realize that Hagrid had gone to London that morning to apply for an appeal for his pet hippogriff, Buckbeak, who was sentenced to death for injuring Draco, thanks to Lucius's influence with the Board of Governors.

Bored with Hagrid's boot, Rosie trotted back to the castle, on a hunt for food. 

Her nose led her down to Severus's quarters where she was usually assured of a meal, but to her dismay her Alpha-Dad's door was locked tight and no amount of barking and scratching brought him to open it.  The forlorn beagle was getting desperate.

She raced down the corridor and up the stairs to the main floor of the castle.  Her nose quickly led her to Mrs. Norris's bowl of milk, which Filch had left for the finicky cat in the Trophy Room.  The milk filled her stomach slightly, but it was no substitute for actual food, like a steak, or chicken, or a chocolate cupcake.

Rosie knew enough to avoid the staircases, they moved without warning, and she had gotten trapped on one her second day at Hogwarts and never forgotten it.  She growled warningly at the tricky stairs before bypassing them totally and heading into the Great Hall, where the kids were usually eating and could always be persuaded by a paw or a glance to feed her something from their lunches or dinner. 

But it was between periods and the house elves had not yet set out lunch in the hall, so Rosie's investigation turned up naught but dust bunnies.  She quartered the hall methodically, searching for the tiniest crumb, but there was nothing anywhere.  The little beagle whuffed exasperatedly and left the hall, bounding up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, where she recalled she had left a half-gnawed rawhide on Harry's bed, under the covers.

But the portrait hole refused to open (the Fat Lady didn't understand beagle) and once again Rosie was at loose ends. 

By now the very bored and hungry beagle would have cheerfully eaten socks, and she wandered the castle hoping to come upon anyone willing to feed her.  She discovered McGonagall's tartan scarf in the teacher's lounge and contented herself with nibbling an end half-heartedly before deciding wool wasn't quite what she wanted and going off to see if the kids had returned to the hall yet.

Finding the place still deserted, Rosie heaved a sigh and resigned herself to waiting.  So she curled up under Snape's chair beneath the staff table and did the third favorite activity of a beagle-she took a nap. 

An hour or so later, Rosie was awakened by the sound of many feet entering the hall, and many voices talking at once.  She panted and shook her floppy ears, getting to her feet and poking her nose out from under the staff table. 

Students were drifting into the hall in twos and threes, discussing their classes, groaning over their homework or the detentions they'd earned, and then sitting down at the long tables for lunch.  

The Slytherin tables were closest to the staff table and so it was there Rosie crept first, slipping beneath the nearest table to await the coming of a student with food who might be persuaded to drop some to a begging beagle who was starving. 

A bookbag was dropped down next to her, but the only thing inside of it were books and ink and quills, all things which she'd been trained not to chew by both Harry and Severus.  Two more bookbags were dumped opposite her and three pairs of shoes shoved themselves beneath the table, narrowly missing stepping on her tail and paws. 

Rosie glared indignantly at the three pairs of black shoes, which were good quality leather, as the dog knew perfectly well, being a connoisseur of shoes.  Honestly, why was it that humans never learned to watch where they put their great big feet?

"Can you believe it, Crabbe?" Draco asked his best mate.  "That big oaf Hagrid thinks he can win an appeal from the court for that vicious beast of his.  After the mess it made of my arm, he's lucky my father didn't come here immediately and blow it away.  He's gone to London to give a statement, if you can imagine that!" Malfoy laughed nastily.  "Can you just see it-the big dumbass in front of the magistrate, trying to act like he knows how to string two sentences together." Draco sniggered, then made his voice deeper, imitating Hagrid's speech.  "Yer Honor-I-I jes want ter tell you ‘bout my hippogriff here, he's really not dangerous, all he did was give the boy a scratch like-nothin' life threaten'.  Please spare him, Yer Honor, please, he's like me own brother . . .!"

Crabbe and Goyle joined in as Malfoy laughed and mocked the poor half-giant.  All of them regarded the newly made professor as an inferior due to his lowly status as a gamekeeper and the fact he had once been expelled wrongly from Hogwarts and was no longer permitted to practice magic.

Draco continued in this vein for a few more minutes, gloating about how his father was going to put the great oaf in his place, and scowling over the fact that the house elves had not yet served lunch and it was almost quarter past twelve.  "What are they waiting for, bloody Christmas?"

Rosie was also wondering when the food was going to arrive, she was tempted to start gnawing on Malfoy's shoe, which was right in front of her nose and smelled delicious. 

Just then, Draco's eagle owl flew into the hall with a large parcel in its claws.

The Slytherin's face lit up.

"Oh good, my mother's sent me a care package.  Probably her usual assortment of cakes and pastries from Phyllida's Bakery," he told his friends, who were practically drooling at the mention of the very exclusive and expensive bakery that catered only to the most influential families in the wizarding world. 

The eagle owl landed with a soft hoot directly in front of his master, and Draco fed him an owl treat and stroked him briefly.  "Thanks, Hurricane.  Now off with you."

The owl took wing, leaving Draco to his package of sweets.

Draco eagerly unwrapped the parcel.  It contained, as he'd known it would, a large white box with Phyllida's logo on it-a three-tiered cake and a stylized P.

Crabbe and Goyle were practically salivating all over the table, giving Draco pleading glances.  "Uh, Draco . . .can we have a taste too?" asked Goyle.

"Maybe," allowed their leader.

Unknown to him, the beagle beneath the table had also smelled the box of sweets.

By now Rosie was ravenous and a ravenous beagle is a dangerous thing.

Before Draco could so much as break the red string and undo the lid of the box, Rosie had sprang upon the bench and onto the table.  When food was in the offing, the dog could move as quickly as a Seeker who had spotted a Snitch.  Not pausing to acknowledge Draco, Rosie closed her mouth over the string and dragged the box off the table, jumping onto the floor and trotting away with it.

Draco remained with his mouth open.

Then he shouted, loud enough to be heard all over the hall, "HEY! You bloody thief! Come back with my sweets, you rotten mutt!"

Heads turned and students watched in gleeful delight as Draco pursued the beagle, who was running as quick as her little legs could carry her away from the irate boy, the box of sweets gripped tightly between her teeth, bumping against the floor occasionally.

"Go Rosie!" cheered several Gryffindors, for whom the little hound had become almost a mascot since Harry had introduced her to them. 

"Looks like your food's grown legs, Malfoy!" hooted a seventh-year Ravenclaw girl.

"Run home, little doggie!" howled another, a fourth-year Hufflepuff boy.

Rosie simply wanted to find a place to hide with her forbidden treat and thus she ducked under the tables, hauling the box after her.  The box was getting battered by this time from being dragged along the floor and the string was fraying.

Draco continued to scream at the dog and try to grab her tail, but the beagle was too quick and slipped under one side of the Ravenclaw table and out the other like greased lightning. 

By now the entire hall was roaring with laughter at seeing the high-and-mighty Draco outwitted by a lowly dog, who was smart enough to evade the other with a box nearly the same size as she was. 

"Stupid bloody BEAGLE!" howled Draco, now very red-faced.  He drew his wand. 

Rosie snuck out from beneath the Hufflepuff table and began to make her way towards the entrance, the box bumping along the floor with every step.

"Oi, Draco!" shouted Goyle, pointing.  "There she goes! By the door!"

Draco spun around and bolted for the dog, who ran gamely for the exit, amid the urging of the students watching. 

But the string about the box had enough of being abused and it snapped.  The box tumbled along the floor and the lid popped open, scattering cream puffs and napoleons and all manner of custard tarts and chocolates all over the floor.

Rosie, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, began to gobble up the sweets scattered in her path.

"You stupid mutt!" howled an enraged Draco.  "I'll teach you to eat my food, you bloody stray bitch!"

He pointed his wand at the little beagle, who was too preoccupied with eating to realize the danger she was in, and started to say a nasty jinx.

That was the sight that met Harry's eyes as he entered the Great Hall along with Ron, Hermione, and Aria.

Reacting with the battle-ready reflexes Severus had been training into him for the past three weeks, Harry shouted a Disarming Charm.  "Expelliarmus!"

Draco's wand flew out of his hand, and the blond turned about to see who had dared to hex him, only to find himself face to face with a very angry Harry Snape.

"What's the bloody idea, Malfoy?" snarled Harry, his green eyes smoldering with the infamous Snape temper.  "How dare you try and hex my dog?"

"Sod off, Potter!" spat Malfoy, stomping over to the beagle and aiming a kick at the dog.  "I'll teach you, you miserable-!"

Then he yelped as Harry caught him by the collar of his robes and spun him around.

"Hurt my dog, will you?" spat his rival, his temper burning out of control by Malfoy's attempt to harm Rosie.  "You like kicking helpless animals, do you?"

"Your bloody dog ate all my sweets from Phyllida, Potter!" screeched Malfoy, trying to back away.  "I'm going to kick her into next week."

"Oh yeah? Not if I kick you into next week first, Boy Toy!" cried Harry and then he did something he'd been wanting to do for years.

He kicked the arrogant spoiled brat hard.  Right in the family jewels.

Normally that was not a place Harry would have ever kicked another boy in,but Malfoy had pushed him too far when he tried to hex his beloved dog.  He'd actually been aiming for Draco's knee, but the other had moved at the last possible second and sealed his own fate. Granted, Rosie had done wrong by stealing the brat's box, but Malfoy could have simply levitated the box away from the dog and avoided all the trouble that followed, if he'd been thinking instead of reacting. 

Malfoy went down like a poleaxed steer, his mouth opened in a silent scream of agony. 

There was a sudden sound of silence, then one by one students started clapping.  "Way to go, Snape!" shrilled a girl.

"That's giving him what for, Harry," cheered Ron.

"Good for you, Harry.  Teach him a good lesson," added Aria.

Even Hermione looked pleased, and normally she despised physical violence.

"And just what in Merlin's name is going on in here?" demanded McGonagall sternly.

Everyone froze as the strict Transfiguration teacher entered the hall, followed by Flitwick, Sprout, and the Headmaster. 

McGonagall assessed the situation rapidly, noting the dog licking the remains of something off the floor, the crumpled white container, and most notably Draco Malfoy rolling on the floor whimpering and clutching himself, while Harry stood over him giving him a look that should have slain him on the spot.

It didn't take a genius to put together what had happened, and Minerva had been a teacher for over three decades.

"Someone please escort Mr. Malfoy to the Hospital Wing," she ordered crisply, and Crabbe and Goyle leaped to obey. 

Then she turned to her wayward House member.  "As for you, Mr. Snape, you will see me in my office directly after lunch, where you shall explain the meaning behind your assault on Mr. Malfoy.  I'm most disappointed in you, young man.  You have now cost your House thirty points and earned yourself a detention with me tonight."

Harry groaned, only then realizing what his temper had cost him. "Yes ma'am," he murmured, flushing and then went to sit down at his usual table, next to Neville, Fred, and George.  Hermione and Ron followed and so did Rosie, who was not yet full and wanted more food.

McGonagall waved her wand and the remains of Malfoy's bakery box were cleaned up and she swept to the staff table in a towering temper.  She couldn't believe that Harry, of all people, had made her take points from her own House.  The nerve of the boy! Clearly the youngster needed to learn how to control his temper better, and she'd be having words with his father regarding that particular subject this afternoon.

Harry wanted to sink into the floor, though Ron was ecstatic and kept going on about how wonderful it had been to see Malfoy knocked on his privileged arse that way until Harry wanted to slug Ron one just to shut him up.  Plates of fried chicken and mashed potatoes and bread with butter and carrots appeared on the table along with pitchers of pumpkin juice. 

Harry picked at his food, no longer hungry after all.  He knew he was in big trouble, and not just with McGonagall either.  He well recalled Severus telling him that if he earned himself a detention with another teacher, he would also face his father's wrath.  He fed Rosie nearly all of his lunch, and the beagle gobbled all of it happily, forgiving him for forgetting to feed her earlier.

"I'm dead meat, Ron!" he moaned to his friend.  "My father's gonna have my hide for sure, beating up Malfoy like that."

"Aw, c'mon, Harry! He had it coming, trying to hex your dog that way."

"Won't matter a bit to my dad, Ron.  Not with McGonagall giving me detention.  Wait and see."

Sure enough, after dinner, Streak glided into the dining hall with a message for one Harrison Remus Snape.

Mr. Snape,

Meet me in my quarters right after your detention tonight.

No excuses, young man!

Dad

Harry buried his face in his hands.  Dear Merlin, I am so screwed.  Blast and damn you, Malfoy.  He's going to kill me, I just know it.