Harry stood with the handful of remaining students, waving off the last of the carriages as they pulled away from the school. Carolling out to their remaining classmates, the departing children headed down the snowy carriageway towards Hogsmeade and the waiting train he could see puffing over the trees. The several students, who were staying behind this year, soon tore off into the thick, packable snow, to begin snowball fights and build snowmen. Harry turned back into the school to finish his packing. His dad had said they would be leaving for Prince Manor after lunch. He was the last remaining Gryffindor in the school – all the others joining their families for the holidays. Even the Weasleys had taken off.

Harry had spent the last few days in Gryffindor tower perusing the catalogues he’d found there. He had found several items for his friends that he hoped they would like. He still hadn’t found anything for his dad, or his god-brother, but he and Draco were going to peruse Draco’s collection of catalogues tonight to search for Severus, and Harry was hoping to get inspiration for a gift for Draco.

He ran up the staircase, which was gratefully cooperating today. When he passed the second floor he noticed that the floor was wet again – Myrtle must be having another bad day, he thought. He reached the seventh floor in record time, barely breathing hard. The Fat Lady was already celebrating, with a wreathe around her head – slightly tipped – and a glass of something bubbly in her hand, as she groggily peered at Harry then waved him in, hiccupping the whole time.

He hurried up to his dormitory and finished throwing things into his trunk; well, not exactly throwing – he remembered the admonition from the summer to never have his trunk look messy again – but he was packing quickly. He made sure his practice snitch was tucked away safely, and he shrank his broom to fit across the top of his clothes before closing the lid, locking the hasps and straps and hoisting the trunk up on end. He turned around and nearly fell over as his heart jumped in his throat. His father was leaning on the doorjamb behind him, smirk in place, arms crossed casually.

“Dad! Don’t do that! You nearly gave me heart failure!” Harry accused, regaining his equilibrium and breath. His father only chuckled.

“I wondered how long it was going to take you to realise I was there, scamp.” He walked over to run a loving hand over Harry’s long hair then gave him a swat for good measure. “Are you ready? Yes? Good.” He drew his wand and with a slight movement murmured, “Locomotor trunk” and Harry watched as his trunk floated up in the air and headed towards the door.

“That’s a great spell, Dad!”

“Yes it is, isn’t it? Now where’s your winter cloak – ah, here it is. Grab Hedwig’s cage and we’ll be off. Keep up now!” Severus strode quickly through the door and Harry followed quickly on his heels, the owl cage banging against his side. She had been told to meet him when they left after lunch.

They followed the trunk all the way to the front door where Severus’ house-elf awaited with an already large accumulation of luggage, all matching. Harry’s trunk lowered itself next to the pile, and Harry dropped the cage and his cloak on top of it.

“I see Draco is ready,” he said sarcastically, eyeing the huge pile.

“Indeed,” was his father’s only comment, but it was said with a resigned sigh. “Come along, Harry, we are dining with the staff for lunch.” He led the way up the short marble staircase toward the Great Hall and Harry, once again, followed in his wake – but well back from the billowing robes.

Dumbledore greeted them as they approached the large round table that replaced the house tables during the holidays, Harry seating himself next to Draco. The young Slytherin had recovered quickly from his attack, and now wore a set of plain robes with the Hogwarts crest on it as well as a multi-hued school tie. They still hadn’t figured out what Draco was going to do after the holidays were over, but for now they all felt this was the safest.

Thankfully, the meal was over quickly and Severus trailed behind the boys as they politely took their leave of the table and rushed to the pile of luggage to grab their cloaks. Harry had his on first and picked up his birdcage to step outside and call Hedwig to him.

She came floating down from the skies at his whistle, barely discernable from the large fluffy flakes that were falling. As she came nearer, though, she took on more substance and Harry braced himself as she landed on his outstretched arm, delicately taking the owl treat he handed her. She willingly entered the cage for him, after nibbling once on his ear in affection, and he returned inside to add her cage back to the pile. Runeskin, Severus’ loyal house-elf, nodded once in satisfaction and, laying a hand atop the pile, disappeared with a loud “snap”. Harry just grinned for a moment at the now-clear spot where the luggage had just been. I love magic! he thought to himself.

Severus nodded to himself, slung his cloak over his shoulders and pulled on his gloves, as he led the two boys out the main doors, into the snowfall, and the trio made their way down to the main gates slung between the guardian stone boars. As soon as they had passed the barrier, Severus gathered the boys to him and Apparated them to the Manor.

Harry was proud of himself: he managed to stay upright this time, and kept his lunch down. Draco, on the other hand, looked as if this was something he did everyday – not a hair out of place, and he stood there looking calm and collected. Harry threw him an annoyed look, but then looked at his father as the man chuckled above him.

“Son, you are the most graceful person I have ever seen on a broom, but your skills at the other types of magical transportation are woeful to behold.”

“Thanks, Dad – appreciate it,” Harry said sarcastically. He finally looked up and gasped as he took in the sight in front of him.

An old Seventeenth Century manor was spread out in front of him, complete with a large circular stone fountain in the centre of the courtyard. It was currently turned off for the season, but Harry could imagine it flowing, with sunlight sparkling in the water spray. Red bricks paved the courtyard and Severus led the boys around the fountain to the large front doors. Two wings boxed in the south and north sides of the courtyard and the main house faced east. Harry could count four different levels above ground and he was sure there was at least one level underground. He noticed a large dome on top of the roof, and when they entered the vestibule he looked up and saw that it was made entirely of stained glass, the colours sparkling as they were reflected on the various shiny surfaces of the large lobby.

Snape twirled off his cloak and hung it over his arm as he turned to face the boys. “Welcome to Prince Manor! Ah, Runeskin, will you please show the gentlemen to their rooms? Then lead them back to the conservatory, thank you,” he said sincerely to the house-elf as the little man bowed to his master. “Harry, Draco, I will see you in a few minutes and we shall go over the house rules.” Severus stalked off down the right-handed corridor and the boys followed the house-elf up the curving staircase that led to the next floor.

This floor was carpeted in thick Persian carpets that ran the length of the halls. Various doors led off the main track, which Runeskin described as being mostly guest rooms although there was a drawing room on this floor for the family’s use in addition to a larger one on the first floor, along with various smaller parlours. Both boys gazed at the myriad of family portraits that glared down at them from the walls, and murmured to themselves as they passed below them. Runeskin had led them along the south-running hall that ended in an east-west junction. Harry guessed that the house was in the shape of a large ‘H’. Taking the left turn, Runeskin led them eastward and stopped in front of a large oak door halfway down.

“This is the Heir’s suite, young Master Snape. Your father’s rooms are at the end of this hall, and Master Malfoy’s suite is directly across from yours.” The elf indicated the other door across from Harry’s.

Draco walked over and opened his own door. He seemed pleased with what he saw. “This suits me quite well,” he commented. “Well, Snape, open your door! What are you waiting for, an invitation? It’s your room!” he pointed out.

Harry grinned a bit at his brother and, taking a breath, grabbed hold of the knob and opened the door. He had never in his life seen a room like the one in front of him – at least not outside of one of Aunt Petunia’s decorating magazines. A huge four-poster bed dominated one side of the room with hangings in a heavy brocade of deep wine and silver threads and a matching duvet. Large French doors led to a balcony that was currently knee deep in snow, but Harry could see that the balcony was deep enough to accommodate a few chairs and table when the weather was better. Hedwig’s cage already hung on a stand near the doors. The owl was asleep, chest feathers fluffed up and moving with the slight breeze of her breath.

Across the richly carpeted room was an indoor seating area in front of the floo, with a small chesterfield sofa, a matching wing chair, and a low table in front of them. An old fashioned roll-top desk stood in one corner complete with writing supplies of paper, ink and freshly cut quills. A bookcase that already held several dozen reference books stood nearby. There were two doors that led from the sitting room; the one on Harry’s left, he discovered, led to a dressing room complete with built in armoires for his clothes, shoes and accessories. He could see his belongings were already put away and they barely took up any space in the large room.

The other door led to his own private bathing room that held a deep roman tub, a separate shower and stacks of fluffy towels awaiting his use. His kit was already laid out on the counter next to the sink.

“Nice, huh?” Draco asked over his shoulder. “Mine is set up just the same. You’d never know Uncle Severus lived like this…”

“I didn’t,” came the low voice from the main entrance to the room. “This was my mothers inheritance – I didn’t visit here very often growing up, my father wasn’t welcome. Once my grandparents died, it passed to my mother who only held it for two years before she passed away. I rarely stay here, but it has been in the family for generations and is one of the safest places in Britain, with layers upon layers of protective wards woven around it.

“The Dark Lord does not know where it is, nor does Dumbledore – although he is aware of its existence. Now, come down to the conservatory and we will discuss the rules for the next few weeks.” He beckoned them to follow him and he led them back to the first-floor and through some glass doors into a beautiful glassed-in room that arched up and away from them. Three stories high, it was filled with plants, trees and flowers. Several catwalks, with cascading baskets of flowers and ivies, crisscrossed above them. A black, wrought iron circular stair case led up to these, as well as to two separate balconies that were attached to the house. It was a stark contrast to the winter scene on the other side of the windows. A narrow paved path led amongst the flora to a hidden central gazebo that contained a table and four chairs. A steaming tea service was waiting on the table and Severus served the boys before sitting down himself.

“Today is basically a get-settled-in day. We will have dinner later in the main dining room; Runeskin will show you the way later. You may visit and explore most rooms except the lab down in the basement. It is well marked, so unless I invite you in, avoid it. There is a workout room, also in the basement, with the same equipment as the one I have at Hogwarts. I expect you to keep up in those studies. This floor also houses the library and I expect both of you to make good use of it, completing your holiday essays early.” Both boys groaned at that prospect. Severus just smirked.

“Now, I expect you to help out around here by keeping your rooms picked up and to help with the meal preparations. Any punishments you will receive whilst here will always include the cleaning up after meals.” He took another long sip of his tea before addressing his sons again.

“Tomorrow, we will go get the Christmas tree for the family parlour; we own a nice stand of evergreens on the property. Any questions?”

“Can we go flying?” Draco asked.

“If you insist. There is a pitch behind the house. Stay within the wards, gentlemen – you’ll be able to feel them when you head outside. Dress warmly, and for Merlin’s sake – no harebrained stunts out there!”

He smiled to himself as the two twelve-year olds made plans to go flying and he eventually shooed them off before heading back to his private study to catch up on some journal reading.

****

Later that evening, Harry and Draco were camped out in front of the fire, brightly dancing in the floo in Harry’s room; catalogues spread out before them. Draco had a huge assortment from all the popular wizarding stores, and Harry was frankly amazed at what was offered for sale.

“Draco, look at this… a cloak with shielding spells woven into the fabric as well as everlasting charms and weather repelling charms… Merlin! Look at the price!”

“Uncle already has one,” Draco smirked. “Got it for him last year. I was thinking on the lines of some rare books or ingredients for him,” he suggested.

“Like what?” Harry asked.

“Oh, I don’t know… let’s look in this catalogue, it’s the premier potions listing.” He slapped a huge volume on top of the stack and opened it up. Harry abandoned the Madam Malkin’s tome and scooted closer to Draco to have a look, propping himself up on his elbows as they discussed various offerings. It took them a better part of an hour, but they managed to agree on a combination present of book, ingredients and a new gold cauldron and split up the purchases equitably. Harry had also gotten an idea of what to get Draco, after watching the blond eye several catalogues with longing.

“I’ll use Hedwig in the morning to take these orders,” Harry said as he finished filling out the order sheets while Draco gathered up the catalogues and prepared to head back to his room for the evening. “Good night, Draco.”

“’Night, Harry,” his brother said, grinning as he waved farewell to Harry.

Harry had kept back the catalogue he wanted to order Draco’s present from and when he was sure Draco was gone, he pulled it out from where he had stuffed it under the back of his shirt, and added that order to the pile for Hedwig. Satisfied, he whistled tunelessly to himself as he prepared to go to bed, entering his closet. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he found Runeskin in there, putting away some more things out of a box.

“I’m sorry, Master Harry. Your father had me return to Hogwarts to pick up some things and he said to grab this box from your room – I thought I would just put them away for you,” he explained. Harry went over to investigate the box and discovered it was all the presents and get-well cards that were sent over after the disastrous Quidditch game. He had never gone through the box, and was glad his dad had remembered it. He took the box from Runeskin, explaining he wanted to go through it himself. The old elf smiled knowingly before snapping himself out of the room. After changing into his pyjamas, Harry took it out to his bed and began sorting through it.

There were cards from all his dorm mates; even Ron had sent a small one with just his name signed to it. There were a lot of cards from girls, not just the Gryffindor contingent, but the other houses as well. That really embarrassed him, as he really wasn’t interested in girls just yet and he couldn’t for the life of him understand what they saw in his scrawny arse.

There were loads of chocolates and candies, even some joke candies from the twins. Harry tried out a few of the more innocuous looking ones, and decided that Fred and George needed some work with their recipes. He kept back some Frogs and a box of Every Flavour Beans and shoved the rest back into the box, while he opened up his cards.

The last in the stack was a singing card from Ron’s little sister, Ginny. Ron had told him the year before that Ginny’d had a crush on Harry since she was little, although she seemed rather shy around him in the Common Room. She was quiet and kept to herself, mostly, sitting at Hermione’s table and writing… Merlin! She was writing in an old diary! That’s where he had seen a diary before!

Harry catapulted off the bed and out his door and ran down the hallway to his father’s room, knocking loudly on it. When no answer came, he pounded his head with his fists – where could his father be? He suddenly remembered his father telling him that the bond they shared could be used to find either of them. He calmed his breathing and closed his eyes, reaching deep inside him for the thread of the bond. His father had said, when he could visualise the thread inside of him, he would be able to open his eyes and see it stretched out from his body. It took only a moment, but he found it, and opening his eyes he saw that he could actually see a glimmer of it running ahead of him.

“Brilliant!” he crowed, as he took off down the corridor, following the bright string which he could view with his enhanced wizarding sight. It led him on a merry chase along the floor and down to the first level along a corridor he hadn’t been down yet. It went through a set of tall double doors and, after knocking on them to announce his presence; he entered and found himself in the library wing. His father was ensconced in an old, leather, wing back chair, legs propped on a matching ottoman, reading in front of the fireplace.

“Harry? What’s the matter, son?” Severus put down his book to peer at his breathless progeny.

“Dad, I think I know who has the diary!” Now that he had reached his goal and the adrenaline rush was dissipating, Harry was beginning to realise he had left his room in just his pyjamas and had forgotten to grab a dressing gown or slippers, and he was getting cold. He shivered and Severus tossed him an afghan and indicated he sit on the ottoman.

“What do you mean, you know who has the diary?” Severus asked after he conjured a cup of hot cocoa for Harry, and summoned a pair of slippers for the boy’s feet.

So, Harry explained he had been going through the box and had come across Ginny’s card.

“She is always writing in it, Dad, and while I was thinking about it, she never turns the pages – always writing on the same page. Isn’t that kind of strange?” he asked.

“It is. Do you remember where she got the diary?”

“No, but I do remember the twins telling me a story about when they went to get their school supplies this summer, they ran into Mr Malfoy at the book store and he and their dad almost got into a fight. Maybe he managed to slip it to her then?”

“It is possible. Now that is interesting…” He rubbed his hand on his chin, feeling the stubble prickle under his fingers. “Is there anything about Miss Weasley that strikes you as odd?” he enquired after a moments quiet introspection.

Harry thought about this a bit before he answered. “Well, she’s pretty shy, doesn’t really talk to people, and is acting a bit… well… depressed. I know the twins are starting to get worried, don’t know about Ron – we’ve just started talking again and the subject hasn’t come up. Percy is off in his own little Prefect world; he has a new girlfriend and spends most of his spare time with her. I honestly don’t think he would notice if anything was wrong with Ginny. They never struck me as being close,” he added as a caveat.

“Alright, Son, let me handle this from here. Between this information and discovering the approximate area of where the entrance is, we may be able to finally nip this in the bud. I’ll call on the Weasleys in the morning – it’s too late, now. Go get some sleep.”

Harry placed his cup on the table next to his father and gave the man a quick hug. “Thanks, Dad. I hope she’ll be alright.”

“So do I, Harry.”