All eyes in the Great Hall swiveled and stared at the small first year who had spoken, a skinny boy with reddish-brown hair and wide brown eyes in a Hufflepuff-crested robe.  The kid shrank back a little at the stares of his classmates, some of which were hostile and others shocked and curious. 

"Yes, David? Who played this cruel joke on Mr. Filch?" Dumbledore inquired softly, and his eyes lost some of their fire when he looked at the child.  "Come here and tell me, if you would." He beckoned to the boy to approach him.

David quickly did so, reasoning that the safest place to be right then was by the Headmaster's side.  "W-well, sir, you see, I was returning from Transfiguration, which is near to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I heard Professor Throckmorton telling Shelby Cross that in order to cast some spell . . .I think it was called Levicorpus . . .he had to practice and Cross said practice on who and Professor Throckmorton said . . .said "Whoever's most expendable, somebody unimportant, that no one cares about." And Cross said "Sure, professor, I know someone," and then he left and I saw him go down the hall towards the dungeons and Filch's office."

"When was this, Mr. Solomon?" queried Dumbledore, ignoring the others' gasps and yells. 

"Today, sir.  I kind of followed Cross and heard him saying, real quiet like, to himself, "Squibs are always expendable.  Who needs ‘em?  Waste of space, in my opinion.  Too bad I couldn't practice on that useless kid of Snape's.  But he'd turn me inside out and skin me.  But there's another . . ." That's what he said, all right, sir."

Dumbledore's face clouded over again.  "Are you certain, David?"

"Yes, sir.  Then I went to Herbology, and when I came back here for lunch, Filch was hanging from the ceiling.  Just the way you saw him.  So if it was anybody, I'd say it's Cross."

"Didja see him?" shouted a Gryffindor girl.  "Didja see him do it, you blasted badger?"

Cross was a popular Gryffindor boy in fourth year, Seeker for his House team, and though he was arrogant, and not above bullying younger students, no one in his House wanted to believe he was capable of such a thing.

But Dumbledore was peering intently into David Solomon's eyes, and the eleven-year-old met his gaze, irritable as it was, squarely.  There was no deception in their depths.  What the boy had said was the truth, Albus could spot a practiced liar from twenty feet away.  Then too, the boy would have no need to lie to the Headmaster, three years difference in their ages ensured that there was no rivalry between the two boys, and they were in opposite Houses, and Hufflepuff was not known to have intense rivalries with any House, unlike Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"But you did not actually see Mr. Cross hexing Mr. Filch, David?" Dumbledore demanded.

"No, sir.  But everyone knows Cross don't like Squibs.  His dad works for Internal Magical Affairs, and he petitioned to pass the Anti-Squib Act.  Have you heard of that, sir?"

Dumbledore nodded tightly, he had voted against passing that bill at the last Ministry gathering.  "Indeed.  It requires Squibs to register with the Ministry when they are of age, so the Ministry can keep track of them, and it limits the kind of employment they are able to hold, mostly restricted to menial labor, low paying jobs, and also restricts who they are allowed to marry, for Benjamin Cross believes that Squibs can pass on their non-magical genes like a disease.  But he is wrong, there is no proof that a Squib parent will not have a perfectly healthy magical child, though most wizards would never consider marrying one for fear of being ostracized.  That bill, thank Merlin, was vetoed.  Squibs have enough to deal with without making prejudice legal." He spoke loud enough to be heard all throughout the hall, and then he laid a hand on David's shoulder and said, "Thank you for standing up for the truth, and for your fellow human being, Mr. Solomon."

The boy turned pink and did not say anything. 

But Dumbledore was not through yet.  "Does anyone here know the whereabouts of Mr. Cross?  If you do, step forward." He scoured the hall with his steely gaze once again and several students flinched and backed away. 

This was a side of their usually jolly Headmaster they never knew existed, and they were quite terrified. 

Dumbledore waited patiently for someone else to speak, but then he called, "Mr. Cross, if you are here, step forward.  It will go worse for you if you try and avoid me."

There was a flurry at the back of the room and a student yelled, "Quick, Shelby, through the fireplace!"

Someone pointed a wand and the fireplace erupted into large flames and a tall figure could be seen shoving his way through the knot of students, obviously intent on Flooing from the room.

Dumbledore spoke a single word and the flames died.  Then he pointed his wand and cried, "Mr. Cross, come here at once!"

An invisible force picked up the struggling teen and levitated him through the air. 

"No! Put me down, sir!" cried the Gryffindor Seeker, twisting desperately in the air.  "I didn't do anything! That Hufflepuff little snot is lying!"

Dumbledore lowered the boy down in front of him, but did not release the spell that held Cross captive.  "You have not been accused of anything by me, Mr. Cross.  Yet.  Why then did you try and run?"

"I didn't do anything!" Cross yelled, still fighting the spell.  He was a handsome boy with a shock of golden hair and dreamy green eyes, he had several girls following him at any given time.  Currently those admirers were in a state of shock at seeing their idol caught in such a predicament. 

"Then why were you attempting to leave the room, Shelby?" demanded the Headmaster sternly.  "Those who are innocent have nothing to fear from my simple questions."

"I'm not afraid, sir!" denied the other vehemently.  "That kid Solomon was trying to frame me."

"For what purpose?" queried Dumbledore softly.

"How the bloody hell should I know, sir! Because he's a rotten little prig!"

Albus's eyes narrowed.  "We shall discuss this further in my office, Mr. Cross.  Come along, Shelby." He placed a hand upon the young wizard's shoulder, and gestured with his other, making the apprentice glide along with him.  Then  he turned to the rest of the students in the hall.  "You may go about your business as usual.  If I find that Mr. Cross is not the culprit, you shall see him later on, and I will continue to search for the one who harmed Mr. Filch.  This is one prank that shall not go unpunished."

Then the old wizard swept out of the hall, his robes billowing about him with a panache that Snape would have envied. 

"Wow!" Harry whistled and turned to Holly.  "Whatcha think, Holl? Is he the one?"

Holly frowned.  "I don't know, Harry.  He seems like the sort, y'know.  Professor Dumbledore will find out, and then we'll see what happens."

"I wonder if they'll expel him?" Harry murmured. "I've never seen Professor Dumbledore get that mad at anybody.  He was like scarier than Dad!" 

"They ought to!" Holly said into his ear.  Then she tugged her brother out of the hall and whispered, "Let's go back to Hagrid's.  We need to finish grooming the unicorns."

"Right, and we need to tell Hagrid about what happened," Harry said, following her out the entrance doors.

Behind them, the Great Hall erupted into hushed whispers, rumors, speculation, and denial.

* * * * * *

Once they had entered Dumbledore's inner office, he removed the spell binding Cross and said to the fourteen-year-old, "I must ask you to surrender your wand to me, Shelby.  It must be examined."

Shelby glared at the elder wizard.  "Give up my wand? No! I won't!" he clutched the ash wand tightly in his hand. 

"Shelby, this is standard procedure in such a case.  It will be returned to you if you are found to have not cast any harmful hexes or jinxes upon Mr. Filch."

Cross eyed Dumbledore suspiciously.  The tall wizard met his gaze calmly, but there was a stern sense of purpose about him that caused the Gryffindor's bravado to quail.  "Fine.  Here.  Now you can see that brat was lying."

Dumbledore tucked the wand into a pocket.  "Have a seat, Shelby.  I must discuss this matter with the other teachers.  You are to remain here until called."

Shelby sank into a comfortable plush chair, gazing moodily at Fawkes the phoenix, who eyed him gravely from his perch.  "What are you looking at, bird?" muttered Shelby crossly.

"Help yourself to a lemon drop as you wait." Dumbledore instructed, then he stepped out of the inner office and shut the door.

He quickly stoked the fire and began to Floo all the teachers in the school, telling them he must meet with them immediately for an emergency staff meeting. Even Poppy Pomfrey was not exempt, though he did apologize to her for taking her away from Argus. "How is he doing, Poppy?"

"Much better now that he's not hanging like a Christmas ham, Albus," she answered tartly. 

"Forgive me for calling you, but you must be present as well for this meeting, Poppy.  Can you get your assistant, Lucy Armand to watch the infirmary?"

Poppy nodded tiredly.  Her assistant, a young seventh year named Lucy, was always willing to help her out with patients and such. "Yes, I shall call her and ask her to substitute for me until this meeting is over with.  Argus is stable and sleeping right now.  When he wakes he will probably wish to speak with you."

"Did he say anything about his attacker? Did he see who hexed him or tied him up there?"

Poppy shook her head.  "No.  He said it was from behind and he never got a clear view of the person's face.  Though he did say the culprit had light colored hair, if that helps any."

"I see.  Come as soon as you can, Poppy." Albus ordered, then withdrew from the fireplace to grab another pinch of Floo Powder and firecall the rest of his staff.

* * * * * * 

Severus had just entered the school, Narcissa and Draco in tow, when Minerva hailed him from across the entrance hall.

"Ah, Severus! There you are, I've been looking all over for you.  There is an emergency staff meeting in the Headmaster's office," Minerva reported.

Severus took one look at the older witch, noting the way she was holding herself stiffly and her mouth was a single slash across her face, and knew something very wrong had happened in the half a day he'd been absent from the school.  "What has happened?"

Minerva pursed her lips together.  "I am not at liberty to discuss it with anyone but the staff for now," she indicated Narcissa and Draco with a jerk of her pointed chin. 

"He is injured," Narcissa put in, frowning at her former professor.

"It's nothing." Severus waved off her comment.  "I will take care of it later."

"How did you get hurt, Severus?" inquired the Transfiguration professor.

"I'm not at liberty to say at the moment," the Potions Master replied slyly. 

Minerva gave him an arch glare, then looked at Narcissa and Draco and said, "Perhaps you will do me the courtesy of answering my question, Narcissa."

"He was injured helping me, Minerva," said the other witch stiffly, she had never much cared for the Gryffindor matriarch. 

"I see.  Well, do you know the way to the guest wing, Narcissa?"

Narcissa nodded.  "Yes, the west wing of the first floor, just above the entrance to the dungeon."

"Wait for me there," Severus instructed.  "I shall be back shortly." He spun about and headed for the gargoyle that granted access to Dumbledore's office.

"Come along, Draco," he heard Narcissa say as he opened the secret passage to the Headmaster's office.

Minerva looked at him askance as the passage shut behind them and the stairs began to move.  "What are Narcissa and Draco Malfoy doing here, Severus?"

"They are in hiding from Lucius.  Narcissa wishes to file for divorce and she is afraid that Lucius will try and prevent her from ever seeing Draco again, so she asked me to assist her in taking her son from Malfoy Manor."

"Ah.  I see, Lucius is going to be livid."

Severus nodded, a pleased smirk playing about his solemn features.  "What catastrophe has occurred while I was gone, Minerva?"

"There was an . . .incident involving a student of my House, one with prejudice towards Squibs, and he-"

"Who was it? Did he hurt Holly?" Severus interrupted, his overprotective instincts kicking into overdrive.  "Because I'm going to skin the little bastard if he's laid a finger on my daughter-!"

"Severus, calm down!" ordered McGonagall sharply.  "Merlin, you're like a guard dog when it comes to defending that child."

"Was she hurt? Where is she?"

"She's with Harry and Hagrid, grooming and playing with the unicorn foals, I believe.  But she was not the target of the student's cruel prank, that was poor Argus." Minerva informed him crisply.

"Argus? Not Holly?" he felt immense relief that his daughter was not harmed, followed by a sharp jab of shame, for Argus didn't deserve to be made sport of either by spoiled little troublemakers.  "What did the boy do to him? Make him break out in a rash again? Lock him in the supply cupboard?"

"Worse.  Much worse." Minerva said grimly, then she told him of how Harry and Holly had called Albus from his office and he had come down to find Filch suspended from the ceiling of the Great Hall, nearly naked, wearing a mocking sign, and half-suffocated from hanging upside down for hours. 

Snape's eyes narrowed.  "That is far more serious than a schoolboy prank, Minerva.  That is harassment and extreme prejudice and cruelty.  Did Albus question the boy yet?"

"No, I think he wanted to discuss the incident with the rest of us and test Cross's wand first." The Head of Gryffindor House shook her head.  "I'm mortified and shamed past bearing, Severus, that one of my House could behave in such a manner.  It's a disgrace!"

The Potions Master nodded tightly. "As it would be for any of us.  Prejudice of Squibs or Muggleborns or half-bloods knows no boundaries.  It is everywhere."

It begins again.  Just as it did when I attended Hogwarts, and the Marauders persecuted me for being a Slytherin and spread rumors that I was a practitioner of the Dark Arts as an excuse to torment me every chance they got.  What they did to me was borderline harassment as well, though Albus never knew the half of it.  And the last incident, with Lupin in the Shrieking Shack . . .that was the final straw.  They should have been expelled, though Albus couldn't do that without revealing Remus.  But he did put them on probation, and had them in detention for the rest of the year.  Nothing like what they deserved, but . . .I just hope history doesn't repeat itself.  The boy deserves to be made a good example of.  Albus, you'd better take a stand this time . . .otherwise you've as good as ruined Holly's and Argus's chances for a normal life here, free of persecution, he thought grimly.  For once, old man, act like a Headmaster and not a doting grandfather.

The two entered the office, and found Albus standing in front of his fireplace.  All of the staff was assembled on the couches and chairs in front of the elderly sorcerer, awaiting his announcement.  They all looked when Minerva and Snape came in.

"Late for a meeting, Snape?" drawled Throckmorton maliciously.  "Tsk tsk."

Severu shot the Defense teacher a death glare, then walked over to an empty chair and seated himself in it.  "My apologies, Albus.  I was attending to a personal matter."

Albus waved off his apology.  "Quite all right, Severus.  Your time is your own on the weekends.  I ought to apologize for ruining your Saturday.  However, to business," the Headmaster lost the familiar twinkle in his eyes and became uncharacteristically stern.  "I have called you all here to tell you of  a grave breach of school rules by one of our students, Gryffindor Shelby Cross.  This afternoon, it was brought to my attention by Severus's children that Argus Filch was hanging upside down from the ceiling of the Great Hall by both magical and Muggle means, nearly in the . . .altogether . . .wearing a sign proclaiming Come One, Come All and See the Stinking Buzzard!.  The children tried to ask several students who had come into the hall for help in assisting Argus down, he was half unconscious from being hung upside down in that manner for hours, but they all laughed and refused to do anything.  They then came and called me, and I helped Argus to the infirmary, where he is now being treated by Poppy." Here he turned to the medi-witch.  "Poppy, please tell the staff the extent of Argus's injuries."

Madam Pomfrey did so, explaining that hanging upside down for that length of time, with most of his weight on his chest, almost caused Filch to suffocate, and she was currently treating him for shock and stress to several muscles in his shoulders and overall stress and trauma to his mind as well as his body.

"It was criminal, what was done to him," the medi-witch declared angrily.  "Argus is not  a young man, he's over fifty, and his heart . . .he's lucky he did not have a heart attack, trying to get himself down.  And then to have students come in and laugh at him rather than try and help him down . . .that was no prank, Albus.  It was a hate crime.  We all know young Cross is prejudiced against Muggles, I've been treating Argus for various pranks he been the victim of ever since Cross set foot in this school. Simply disgraceful! You cannot permit this to go on, Albus.  Next time the so-called "little joke" could kill. I vote for expulsion."

There were murmurs throughout the room, and then Throckmorton cleared his throat.  "Forgive me, Madam, but is that judgment a bit . . .harsh? We do not even know if the boy committed the offence."

"Ah, but I do, Victor," Dumbledore put in heavily.  "I have tested his wand with a Reverse Magic Charm and have seen that he did indeed cast the spell to adhere Argus to the ceiling and then he left him there.  If you wish, I shall show you." Albus picked up Cross's wand and spoke the words, "Priori Incantatem!" A white mist shot out of the wand and showed Filch being floated into the air and stuck to the ceiling, hanging helplessly some forty feet in the air, robbed of dignity and nearly his life as well.

Throckmorton frowned.  "So he cast the spell.  But this is a first offence, surely expulsion is harsh."

Poppy gave the new professor a sharp look.  "Victor, since you are new here, perhaps you don't understand the seriousness of this offence.  You say the boy was merely playing a prank, but that so-called prank could have seriously harmed Mr. Filch.  What will happen next time, if we permit him to get off? Next time we may well have a funeral.  Is it your policy to wait until someone dies until you act?"

Throckmorton scowled at the witch.  "I resent that, madam!"

"That is your prerogative, sir." She turned to look at the Headmaster.  "You have heard my diagnosis and I have given you my vote, should it come down to it.  May I return to the infirmary to check up on my patients?"

"Yes, of course.  And thank you, Poppy."

Pomfrey rose and departed the office using the Floo Network.

"I second her motion," Severus put in after Poppy had departed. 

"You would, considering how you have lowered yourself to raise one," sneered Throckmorton. 

Severus forced himself to remain in his chair, his hands clenched so tightly over his armrests that the knuckles showed white.  "Unlike you, Throckmorton, I am voting for expulsion because the boy is guilty of harming another without provocation, and should be punished for his misdeed.  The one has nothing to do with the fact that Holly is my daughter." If I were five years younger, Throckmorton, I would call you outside and teach you a good lesson in manners, you arrogant toerag!

Throckmorton snorted, but subsided at a warning glance from Albus.  "Gentlemen, please.  Before we vote on how Mr. Cross is to be punished, I suggest we bring him in here and question him, so that we may see beyond the shadow of a doubt what his motives were in committing this misdeed."

"Yes, Albus.  Let us see what Cross has to say for himself," Flitwick agreed.  "He might have not meant true harm to Argus at all."

Severus rolled his eyes.  Filius, your naeivity is astounding.  The boy cast those hexes with the intent to harm, it was no innocent prank! And what's more, he left the man there for hours. A prank would have been dangling him upside down in front of his friends for a brief time for a laugh, not that, the Potions Master thought bitterly, recalling the awful days of his youth when Potter and Black had done just that to him in front of a crowd of students. Agonizingly humiliating as that had been, Severus had not been physically harmed by it, and while it was cruel, it had not crossed the line.  What had been done to Filch did.

Albus returned momentarily with Cross, who slouched insolently into the room, the picture of a teenager who had never been made to own up to his actions. Severus fixed the miscreant with one of his famous glowers and had the satisfaction of seeing the Seeker cringe slightly. 

But then Cross's gaze alighted on Madam Hooch, who was the Quidditch coach, and he said, "Hey Coach, I missed practice today because of this little prat accusing me of casting hexes on Filch."

But Madam Hooch, who normally favored her flyers, was not amused at the boy's casual insolence.  "You shall have a lot more to worry about, Cross, than a missed practice."

"Huh? Why?" the boy blustered.

"Because your wand did indeed cast the spell that hexed Mr. Filch, young man," Minerva snapped, coming to stand before him, her hands on her hips. 

Cross went pale.  "No . . .that's wrong . . ."

"Lying will not help you, Mr. Cross," said the Gryffindor matron.  "We all know you cast that hex and did this shameful thing to Mr. Filch.  What I want to know now is why?"

Cross stared about at the silent disapproving faces of the faculty and swallowed hard.  It was then that he began to realize that no one was going to chalk this up to a youthful prank and let it go.  Momentary panic showed in his eyes, then he took a deep breath and said, "It was an assignment, Professor."

Minerva's eyes narrowed.  "An assignment, Mr. Cross? What do you mean? No teacher would ever tell a student to hex a defenseless person."

"Lying again, Cross?" Severus growled.

"No, sir!" Cross jumped at hearing the threat in the Potion Master's voice.  Then he gathered his courage and pointed directly at Throckmorton.  "He told me to do it, Professor Snape."

There was dead silence in the room.  Until Throckmorton snarled, "You little brat, how dare you accuse me of such a thing?"

But Cross did not back away, even though his insides had turned to jelly.  "Because it's the truth.  You told us to practice the spells you showed us for homework, sir.  Find someone who doesn't matter and see what you can do, that's what you told us.  So I was walking around, trying to think of someone who nobody really gave a damn about, and then I saw Filch sweeping the front entrance.  And I thought, well, he's nothing but a Squib, and they're all good for nothing ‘cept to clean and whatnot.  So I drew my wand and I cast the Levicorpus spell on him and then, well, he was thrashing about and spitting swear words at me, and I thought he needed to be taught a lesson in talking to his betters, like Dad always says, so I brought him into the Great Hall, and I vanished all his clothes and he called me some more names, and I made a sign and hung it around his neck, it was funny, he got all red and his eyes were about to fall out of his head.  I thought, why not hang him up so everyone can see? So I stuck him to the ceiling with a Sticking Charm, but just in case that wasn't enough, I tied him as well with a pair of red suspenders.  Then I went to find my mates and show them."

"And why did it take you so long to return, Mr. Cross?" demanded McGonagall.

He shrugged.  "Got involved with some chicks and stuff.  But what's the big deal? It wasn't like I used an Unforgivable on the old bugger.  He's still breathing, ain't he? And Professor Throckmorton told me to." Cross whined.

"That's a lie! I said no such thing!" thundered Throckmorton.

"Victor, quiet!" Albus ordered in a steely tone few had ever heard him use before.  He turned to gaze at Cross, looking very much like a reluctant parent forced to punish a beloved child harshly.  "Mr. Cross, do you understand that what you did was wrong? You should never raise your wand to harm another person, be they wizard or Muggle, here or elsewhere, unless you are in fear of your life.  Your magic is not to be used to harm or humiliate another person.  Using it in such a manner constitutes a display of dark magic, whether or not you use an Unforgivable Curse."

"B-but sir, it wasn't my fault!" Cross whined.  "Throckmorton told me to!"

"That is the very thing several witches and wizards said when they were brought before the Wizengamot for being followers of You-Know-Who," Albus said sharply.  "They claimed they were forced into those acts, where they tortured Muggles and Muggleborns and whoever else they felt like.  They claimed the Imperius was cast upon them, or that they feared for their lives if they did not do as You-Know-Who ordered.  Are you claiming that Professor Throckmorton cast an Imperius upon you? That he compelled you to hurt Mr. Filch with magic?"

"No . . .but  he's just a Squib.  So what if he got a little shaken up? He's a nasty old bugger, always threatening us kids if we're caught out of bed, always sneaking ‘round and spying us, him and that old horror of a cat! He should have retired years ago, it isn't like he contributes anything useful to the school. I . . .I didn't really mean to scare him that bad, sir.  I'll tell him so, all right?"

"You will need far more than a mere apology to rectify this situation, Cross," interjected Severus, pinning the boy with his raptor gaze.  "Your so-called "assignment" nearly resulted in Mr. Filch's death." There, no more pussyfooting around here, let the boy hear it straight that his stupid ill-considered spell could have killed Filch. "What do you say to that, boy? If Mr. Filch had died as a result of your spell, would you then say, oh but I didn't mean to, sir!" sneered the Potions Master.  "Or that you were just following orders, hmm? That is no excuse for your actions, Cross! You supposedly have a brain, why did you not use it for something besides catching a Snitch? Why did you not say to yourself, I should not be casting such spells and think before you acted? Can you answer that?"

Cross did not reply, but the back of his neck was very red and he blushed hotly under the heat of Snape's censorious gaze as well as the stinging comments the professor had just delivered.  "I didn't know, sir!" he whined, sounding like a four-year-old.  He threw a pleading glance at McGonagall.  "But he's not dead, so what's all the fuss.  Okay, I made a mistake, I'm sorry.  Now can you just give me detention, Professor, and let me go back to my room or whatever?"

McGonagall shook her head.  "Detention? Mr. Cross, do you not realize that what you have done has gone far beyond a mere detention, or even several detentions? You have committed a serious crime here, one that may result in expulsion!"

"What? No . . .no, you wouldn't! It was a joke . . .you can't expel me over that!" babbled Cross, understanding finally dawning in his eyes.

"We can . . .and we may yet . . .unless you show some indication of remorse." McGonagall said icily. 

"I said I was sorry!" Cross cried.  "What else do you want?

"For you to mean it, young man," Albus said sharply.  "The words are meaningless unless you truly feel remorseful.  And it's becoming clearer to me that you do not.  You feel sorry that you were discovered, you tried to cover up your actions this afternoon instead of owning up to them, and when you were given a chance to accept responsibility for what you yourself had done, you tried to shift the blame to another. That speaks of a dishonest heart, Mr. Cross, and your attitude towards Squibs is not one that I will tolerate any longer in my school. Do you understand me?"

Cross swallowed, sweating.  Then suddenly he snarled, "No, old man, I don't! Everyone knows Squibs are rejects, that they're lower even than Muggles, fit only for washing floors and tending gardens, they're lazy and stupid, and they need to be taught their place. There's purebloods, half-bloods, Mudbloods, Muggles, and Squibs.  It's always been that way, why can't you get that?  Who gives a bloody damn about Squibs? They all ought to be drowned at birth, like an unwanted litter of kittens.  They're an inconvenience." He gestured angrily at Throckmorton.  "What's wrong with you people that you don't get it? Throckmorton knows what's up, but the rest of you have gone barmy, defending some dried-up Squib.  I can't believe you'd expel me over that! I want to call my father.  He won't  let you do that to me!"

Albus's brows lowered.  "Your father has no authority here, Mr. Cross. I ask again, do you not regret your actions, child? If so, you must make reparation to Mr. Filch, perhaps serve as his assistant around the school.  You are young, it is not too late for you to change, Shelby."

"Me? Serve that old prig? No way! I'm no house elf. I want to speak to my father."

"He cannot save you, young man." Albus intoned fiercely. "So be it.  Upon your own head rests your decision.  We shall put it to a vote now, and if the majority goes against you, you shall be expelled."

When Cross opened his mouth to protest, Minerva pointed her wand and intoned, "Silencio! Enough, Cross! The Headmaster has decreed what will be, and your father cannot get you off the hook this time, even if he is a Ministry advisor. Now be still!"

Albus turned to the assembled wizards and witches.  "We already have Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey's vote for explusion.  How say the rest of you? All in favor of expulsion, raise your right hand and say "Aye"."

Over half of the staff raised their hands and yelled, "Aye!"

Including Minerva. 

Only Throckmorton refused to commit himself, abstaining.

"It is done.  You are to be expelled, Mr. Cross." Dumbledore said, fixing the gaping boy with a stern yet regretful expression.  "Tomorrow morning, you shall be brought before the school and your wand shall be snapped and you shall be cast from the school.  I shall inform your father myself and you can ride the train back home.  Have you anything else to say?" he asked, removing the Silencing Charm.

"Hypocrite!" shrieked Cross.  "This is all your fault, Throckmorton, you bloody coward! Why don't you admit it, huh?"

Throckmorton snorted and looked right through Cross as if he didn't exist.

"Cross, come to order and act like a Gryffindor!" McGonagall ordered sharply.

"All of you can go to hell! You ain't expelling me over no damn Squib!"

Then Cross was lunging for his wand, his reflexes honed to a hairsbreadth from his playing Seeker for three years. 

His fingers closed over the wand before the teachers could react.

He jerked up and spun, trying to maneuver himself around Dumbledore and dash out the door. 

"Stupefy!"

A red light shot out of Snape's wand and hurtled into the boy.

Cross crumpled to the floor, his attempted escape thwarted by Severus's ever-alert reflexes.

"Thank you, Severus," Albus said, bending down to remove Cross's wand from his grip.  "Minerva, I suggest you keep him under watch until tomorrow morning."

"I shall, Headmaster.  I am terribly sorry for all this."

The old wizard patted her shoulder comfortingly.  "Do not blame yourself, Min.  We all make choices." He then directed his flinty gaze towards the Defense professor.  "Is that not so, Victor?"

"What do you mean?"

"I am referring to Cross naming you as an accomplice, or at the very least encouraging him to harm Filch."

"Sir, I told you, the boy was lying! I never told him to harm Filch.  I said to my students, "Find an appropriate target to practice on." Not once did I encourage the sly sneak to attack Filch.  He was trying to save his own neck by accusing me, Headmaster."

Dumbledore gave the other man one of his piercing glares and shook his head.  He could not pinpoint what bothered him so about the other man, but he found he did not trust the other wizard.  And it was not solely due to Throckmorton's attitude towards Squibs.  No, there was something else that made him uneasy.

Severus too glared at the Defense professor.  He was behind this, or else I'm no spy.  Only he covered his tracks too well.  We could never prove it, unless we gave him Veritaserum, and we don't have a valid claim to do so.  The bloody redcap walks for now.  Until I can catch him in the act. 

"Very well, Victor.  I cannot accuse without proof.  But know this, I shall be watching you, and if you step across the line once more, you shall be dismissed."

"Understood, sir."

"Good.  You may all go.  This meeting is adjourned."

The professors rose and departed the office, Minerva first conjuring a stretcher to put the unconscious Cross on before leaving. She walked slowly, her proud shoulders bowed, looking every one of her sixty-five years.  Clearly her student's betrayal had cut her deeply.

Albus shook his head sadly.  "Poor Minerva," he said to Severus, who alone had remained behind.  "She takes it personally when one of her House comes up wanting."

"Indeed.  As do I," Severus remarked.  "But there was no choice.  An example had to be made, Albus.  Better now than later.  Perhaps it will serve as a deterrent for future students."

"I certainly hope so.  I have not expelled a student in over fifty years, not since Hagrid."

Severus's eyebrows rose.  "You expelled . . .but you were not Headmaster at the time. That was Dippet."

"I know.  But I requested to be the one who broke his wand.  Because at the time, I did not consider him guilty, and we were not permitted to vote on expulsion.  That was the Headmaster's decision alone.  Dippet believed Hagrid's pet Aragog was guilty of killing Myrtle and so he was expelled for harboring a dangerous creature and endangering the welfare of his fellow students.  But I never agreed with the ruling, and when the time came to expel him, I volunteered to do it."

"So you could save a piece of his wand, old fox?" Severus guessed shrewdly.

Dumbledore smiled serenely.  "Would I do that, Severus?"

"If you thought it were necessary, you would. We both know that umbrella of Hagrid's is used for more than keeping off rain."

The Headmaster did not answer.  "There was another reason why I volunteered to perform the breaking ceremony.  Back then, it was customary to drive the student from the school with whips, and I refused to hurt the boy any more than necessary, he was already shamed enough by having his wand destroyed.  I made believe I flogged him with Glamour Charms and Dippet was fooled.  Once I became Headmaster, I did what I could to make reparation for my part in destroying a promising young wizard's career."

Severus  nodded.  "But this time it is different.  The culprit deserves to be expelled, Albus.  Though he should be joined by another, and you and I both know it."

"Yes, I know.  But we have no proof, Severus." Albus's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.  "Would you be willing to do a small service for me? Be my eyes and ears again this once, old friend.  Find out what drives Throckmorton and if you can, give me proof that he is guilty in rousing hatred of Squibs in the students.  Then I can sack him with a clear conscience."

Severus smiled eagerly.  "Now that is one assignment I will take gladly, Albus.  I have long suspected him of being in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Albus nodded darkly.  "As have I.  Hunt well, my falcon." He clasped Severus's shoulder lightly.  He was one of the few adult males the Potions Master permitted such familiarity.  After enduring years of abuse at the hands of his father, Severus shied away from most physical contact, save for that from close friends and his children.  "Was there something else you wished to discuss, my boy?"

"Yes.  I have brought Narcissa and Draco Malfoy to Hogwarts and offered them sanctuary." Severus revealed his true reason for lingering at last.

"Oh? For what reason?"

"Lucius," was all Snape said, but it was enough.

Dumbledore nodded.  "I hope they find their stay here a pleasant one. I think it will do good for Draco to mingle with other children, one child in particular."

"I agree." Severus concurred, then said, "I must be going.  I shall keep watch.  Good afternoon, Albus."

"Good afternoon, Severus. Keep watch and keep safe," he murmured as the black cloaked wizard strode away. "I cannot afford to lose any more sons," he said in a bare whisper, so faint that only Fawkes caught it.

Shaking his head, he returned to his desk and began to compose a letter to Mr. Cross. 

To Mr. Benjamin Cross, Esquire:

It is with deepest regrets that I write to inform you that your son, Shelby . . .