The next day, Harry returned to his dorm after a Quidditch game. He couldn’t tell which side won. He bet nobody could. It had been crazy and fun!
Last night Christmas feast had been great. Lots of food and fun. All the teachers telling jokes and funny stories… The Quidditch game that had started before dinner was stopped as the sun was setting, but everyone involved decided that they would end it the next day after lunch.
Harry saw that over his bed was a fluffy bump, getting closer he discerned Errol. The Weasley family owl. The poor bird was snoring over Harry’s pillow.
Harry saw that there were letters tied to his legs. He untied them without waking the owl.
One was from Ron. It was very funny, he told Harry that on Christmas Eve George and Fred had orchestrated a firework show, but it had gone very wrong. Instead of fun flying lights the result was a big explosion! It had taken almost an hour to all the adult members of his family to remove the smoke and fix the damage. Mrs. Weasley had sent everyone to bed after that. Ron had even drawn a small picture of the explosion. He was so funny!
Harry opened the other letter. It was from the twins and as they always talked completing each other’s phrases, they wrote with similar letters, but one completing the thoughts of the other.
Dear Harry:
By now you must know about our failed experiment. Ron surely told you about it. Remind me of placing a balloon with water over his bed.
I will George.
Well Harry we need you to do us a favor. You see. We place similar fireworks in Hogwarts for New Year entertainment.
And we fear that it’s going to blow up a wall on the castle.
As much as it will be funny to have an extra window…
It will also mean that we will no longer be welcome there any more…
We think that it would be better to stop it.
It has a clock and it is set to blow at exactly 12.01 of the New Year.
Not exactly, your watch was running slow…
Then around that time. You must help Harry.
It is placed inside the DADA classroom, around the window.
But the fuse is behind the picture of the Wicked Witch of the West.
There is not such a witch Fred. It’s behind the Picture of the Vampire.
It looks like the Wicked Witch of the West.
Whatever… the fuse is behind one of the pictures and you will need to cut the wires.
Do not use magic. Use scissors or something like that…
Do not use a knife.
Just cut the cable. We will remove the explosives when we come back.
Harry may be too young for that bro…
That’s right. You may ask help from Wood or any other Gryffindor as long as you make them swear secrecy…
Wood will be no good… He is a good boy.
The child needs help.
Be careful with your fingers.
Write telling us you have done it.
Remember to do it before the New Year.
We hope to see you soon. With all your fingers…
Fred and George or Gred and Forge.
Harry re-read the letter. Once. Twice. They were crazy! He had to defuse a bomb!
Harry placed the letter on his night table. He would have to sleep on the problem and see if he had any ideas in the morning.
He moved Errol to Ron’s bed and tried to sleep, dreaming about fireworks and flying fingers. He woke up and drank some water.
How hard would it be to cut a couple of cables? He had some pliers inside his trunk. They were laying around his cupboard since forever, and he had packed them. He knew how to use them. His relatives used him as their Handyman… He needed to get to the DADA classroom. He knew that Quirrel slept in the adjacent rooms… But with that turban thing on his head he surely did not have a good hearing… He would use his cloak.
He had heard his dorm mates commenting that the teachers did not patrol the corridors these days…
Snape had said that he shouldn’t use the cloak for mischief… But this was a rescue mission…
He would look for the room during the next day and decide if he needed something to take the pictures down…
He would worry about his fingers later…
Snape was finishing grading his Newt class essays. He had to admit that they were not that bad. He placed them over his desk, along the rest of the essays that he had managed to review this holiday. He still had to attack the first and second years… He had left the fun for the last…
Placing the stack of papers on the desk, he saw that there was a piece of bright green paper under it. It was Potter’s Christmas card. He had re-read these simple happy wishes, several times. The letters were definitively different, even though he traced the ‘o’s just like his mother. But the way he filled the boxes and the tree… How could that be…? Lily had not had time to teach her child to write… nor to draw. The boy had been barely one year old… He took the card and placed it beside Lily’s picture in his room. The smiling Lilly looked at him so happily…
“Your son made it. He has your eyes, your smile and your ‘o’s.
He needed a cup of coffee and, maybe a little brandy. He hated to feel like this… He was the reason that… He should think on something else.
The New Year Feast would be the next night and he should try to sleep early tonight to be able to stand his festive colleagues…
He needed to take a walk.
The teachers and Heads of Houses shared the labor of patrolling the corridors. For some, it was a hardship. But Severus enjoyed the walk. He enjoyed also being able to catch miscreants!
He liked to listen as the portraits gossiped and as the walls whispered to him…
He thought that there was no reason for the little devils to want to stay out of their beds this night. It was really cold…
He walked up to the seventh floor and from there down. The door of the third floor corridor was closed and ‘Fluffy’ was asleep.
He kept his pace. As he walked he felt that he was able to analyze his feelings towards the Potter Boy… No... Not Potter boy any more. Lily’s child. Harry.
Harry. His responsibility. The boy had made some progress, his grades had been good and he had even managed to brew a potion successfully…
He kept walking, getting close to the DADA classroom and teacher’s quarters.
He saw a faint light and heard some noise from the classroom. He hoped that Quirrel was asleep or in no mood to talk about the stone…
As he got closer he could hear clearly.
Harry had used the cloak the night after Christmas.
He had walked pass the library and the third floor corridor. And had found the most extraordinary mirror.
He had returned to the mirror room the next night and the following.
And would have been there the following nights, if Dumbledore had not talked to him.
He was surprised to learn that he had only two more nights before New Year and the time of the explosion. And the next night would be New Years Eve. Too close for comfort.
He took his cloak again and went to the DADA classroom.
He had realized that it was nice to walk the dark corridors. It was nicer than when they were full of people…
He arrived at the classroom and knew that he needed a light. He lighted his wand, but it was no use. He needed to keep his hands free… He looked around and saw a lamp, it looked like it had oil, so he used the little charm that Hermione taught him to light the oil, and placed the lamp on one of the tables.
Now, where was the picture of the Werewolf? Or was it a witch? Sometimes the twins confused him…
He looked around and saw a big mirror with a scary image. It took him a moment to realize that, He saw himself. But only his head! This was fun.
Harry kept looking around until he saw that there was a wall near the door that had several portraits and pictures. He went there, but bumped into a desk.
“Ouch!” He must remember that he was invisible not a ghost. He felt an ache in his invisible leg. As he stood up he felt a hand on his neck.
“W-who a-are you a-and what a-are you d-doing here?”
“Professor…!” Harry moved and his cloak fell to the floor, he was faced with Professor Quirrel candle in hand, wearing a dark robe and with the turban askew…
“W-w-what a-a-are you d-d-oing h–h-here? Is not ee-enough to bother mmm-me in class? Let’s see w-what your Head of house has to say aa-bout this!”
“Please let me explain, Professor, I need to…!”
“Shut up! H-harry P-p-potter!” Harry knew he was caught. Should he tell McGonagall about the fireworks? Would Snape learn about this…?
Harry looked at the strange man. He maybe tired, but every time that he looked him in the eye he felt as if his head… Not his scar… hurt…
He did not hear what the strutting man was saying. What time was it?
“…I guess that w-w-we could g-g-get t to a-an a-arrangement Mr. Potter… Come with me…”
The man was going to grab his arm, Harry felt very scared! He stepped back.
“No, sir. I would rather go to Professor McGonagall.”
“I said come with me!” It did not sound like Quirrel this time. Harry turned around and ran. The door was open. He had closed it… What..? He tried to stop, but crashed against someone. He felt a familiar smell. He was safe. It was professor Snape.
“S-severus!”
“Hello Quirnus. I see that you found a prowler… Mr. Potter. Go to my office. On the double, now!”
“Sir. Please. I know... Please. I know I should be in bed, but… there is an explosive here and it is going to blow!”
“Explain.”
“Behind the portraits…”
“What kind of explosive?”
“I don’t know. But I have to cut the cables or it is going to blow tomorrow.”
“Mr. Potter, is this a stupid dare from any of your classmates?”
“No, Sir. Please. I just need to… behind the portrait.”
Snape decided to humor the child. After all it would take them only a minute to check.
He took the portrait with his two hands and removed it from the wall.
The portrait was heavy. He placed it on the floor against a chair.
Then he saw the wall. There was a small clock there, and a thin cable.
Snape looked at Harry. Harry shrugged his shoulders, and said, “I told you… You need these to cut them…” He handed Snape the tool. Snape cut the cables and gave the clock to Harry. He took the cables in his hand and followed them to the window.
All around the window he saw that were what looked like small balls. He took one and smelled, it had powder…
“Who put you up to this Potter?”
“They were supposed to be just fireworks… Sir, but… something went wrong and… I had to de-fuse it or there was going to be a very big explosion on New Year.”
“Show me your hands.”
Harry complied. Snape used his wand and ran a small diagnosis. If Harry had handled explosives the hands would turn purple. As it was, his hands remained white and trembling.
“All right. It is the truth that you did not place them. But you know who did and you are going to tell me…” Snape use his wand again and splashed water onto the balls on the window. Harry watched them release some smoke. “But not here…”
“It’s safe now, Quirnus. I will inform Filch of the best way to remove them. I will handle Mr. Potter. He will not disturb your sleep again. Come with me, Potter.”
“Yes, Sir.” Harry picked up his cloak from where it had fallen from his shoulders and ran beside Snape.
Harry felt Quirrel’s eyes as he walked outside the door. He knew that the man was feeble and harmless… but anyway he gave him the creeps. Maybe it was because of the turban… Meanwhile, he should be scared of the dark cloaked man walking ahead of him.
“So you really planned to end the year with a blast, didn’t you, Mr. Potter? Sneaking out of your dorm after curfew, walking around the castle at night, entering closed classrooms, tampering with forbidden artifacts… Do you care to add to the list?”
“No, Sir.”
“Stand with your nose in that corner and go over the events of tonight to see if I have forgotten something.”
Harry knew that there was no way to get out of this. If only his head was not hurting so much… He placed his forehead toward the cold wall and felt some relief.
“Stand straight Potter, no touching the wall.”
“I have a headache.”
“Come here.” The boy left the corner and stood beside Snape. “So you left your bed, and now have a headache? When did it start? Why didn’t you go to Madam Pomfrey?”
Harry kept quiet.
“It seems that my collection of dirty cauldrons is going to be diminished.”
Harry saw the stern man and knew he could tell him. “I did not have a headache when I left my bed. I had to stop the explosion…”
“When did it start then? You may have caught a cold…” Snape run a diagnose with some movements of his wand. The pain showed in the head, but it seemed that everything else was fine.
“I started in the DADA class room… when Q… Professor Quirrel caught me. It started with my scar and… then it went to the rest of my head.”
That was strange. Unless… “Had it happened before?”
Harry had to concentrate to talk. “Yes, Sir. It happens in class sometimes, when I look in Professor Quirrel’s eyes; I thought that he was going to hurt me…”
“Teachers are not authorized to smack students, Mr. Potter. Only Heads of houses and…”
“I do not mean it like that… he… at first he said that he was going to take me to Professor McGonagall, but then he said… his voice changed somehow, he was not stuttering anymore, he talked differently, and then he tried to hold my arm and I tried to run… I’m sorry I crashed against you…”
“He did not touch you at all, did he?”
“He touched my neck, but just for a moment and then he wanted to pull me… I may have overreacted… my head was hurting then and I thought he was going to harm me. Thank you for saving me…”
“Mr. Potter. You shouldn’t need to be ‘saved’ in the middle of the night.” Snape sighed. “Stay here.”
Snape went into the bathroom and went out moments later with a small red vial and a wet towel in his hands.
“Sit down.” Harry sat on the sofa that was behind him. “Drink this.” Harry opened the vial and drank it, then closed his eyes. The pain started going away… “Now lay down.” Snape placed the towel on the child’s forehead. “Breath deeply. Hold the air inside you, and count to 5 before releasing it… there, keep doing it. I will inform your Head of House that you will spend the night here.” Harry opened his eyes and looking at Snape asked. “Are you going to spank me, Sir?”
“Yes, Mr. Potter. But not tonight.”
Snape returned minutes later with a glass of warm milk, he had floo called Minerva and told her about the errant first year. He was going to tell her about the explosives, but realized the he needed more information about them. Once in the room he realized that Harry was asleep. Snape left the glass on the table and sat beside the child. He removed Harry’s shoes and socks, and then covered him with a blanket. He could have transfigured the young wizard’s clothes to more comfortable ones, but as the child had just had a headache, the use of magic could trigger it again. He placed Harry’s glasses on the coffee table and saw that the invincibility cloak was crumpled there. He unfolded it and realized that it was a fine piece of art. This was the stuff of legends. He thought about placing it over his shoulders, but realized that it was too much temptation. Snape folded the cloak and placed it beside the glasses. Maybe he would be able to find a book or a scarf that belonged to bloody James Potter. He understood the need of the child to have a link with his parents, but a scarf wouldn’t enable him to get into mischief.
Snape realized that he was just sitting there watching the sleeping boy. He told himself that he was just seeing if the pain had left the child… but the young boy looked so peaceful. In spite of having yet to face the consequences of his foolery. Snape touched the blankets around the child and tuck them in. It was a cold night. Harry felt the pressure and opened his eyes…
“Sh. Go back to sleep child. Everything is fine.” Harry closed his eyes and snuggled into the blankets. Suddenly, Harry seemed so small. Snape touched Harry’s forehead arranging his hair, he sighed. This forced interaction with the boy was bringing out levels of his personality that had lain dormant within him for years ... possibly his entire life.