Harry woke the next morning feeling much better. Madam Pomfrey ran her wand over him and pronounced him over the stomach flu. She gave him breakfast—it was brown sugar oatmeal with bananas and some toast, plus some tea. Skull arrived and perched on the end of the bed frame, warbling, "Oh, It's a Beautiful Morning", before chirring, "How do you feel, Harry? All better now?"

"Hello, Skull. I feel fine." Harry said. "How are you and Severus?"

"Sev's healthy as a horse, and I'm in fine fettle myself, bran- boy."

"I'll go see him as soon as I'm allowed out of here." Harry promised. He spooned up the last of his oatmeal and drank down his tea.

"Poppy, he's done with his breakfast!" Skull called the medi-witch over.

Poppy bustled over. "How's that sitting with you, Mr. Potter? Do you feel nauseous?"

"No, ma'am," Harry answered.

"The Gryffindor Flash is back!" Skull sang. "Time to let him outta prison, nurse!"

Harry giggled at Skull's impudence.

"Really, Skull!" Poppy shook a reproving finger at the raven. "I'm not that bad."

The raven cocked his head and cawed, "You're a regular Florence Nightingale, my dear! A boon to the sisterhood of nurses, the bearer of the lantern of hope."

"Flatterer!" Poppy pretended to frown at him, but she sounded pleased. "Go on with you both! Before Severus frets himself to death."

She Transfigured his hospital pajamas to his uniform before dismissing him.

Harry made haste to get to his guardian's quarters, Skull leading the way like an omen.

"You look much improved, Harry," Severus stated when Harry had come into his suite. "But I would suggest you take it easy with lunch and dinner today. Try and avoid any spicy, rich, or heavily fried food. They might not sit well with you." He said.

"All right," Harry agreed, for he had no wish to throw up again.

Severus straightened Harry's tie and robes, and then brushed the boy's messy hair.

"Uncle Severus, I can brush my own hair!" Harry protested, wriggling.

"Then why do you not do so?" asked his guardian sternly, combing firmly.

"I didn't have time to worry 'bout my hair, I just got out of the Hospital Wing and I came right here," his ward objected, trying to duck.

"Stop moving, for Merlin's sake!" Severus ordered. "You need a trim, but I haven't time to do it now."

"I don't want my hair cut," objected Harry. "I like it the way it is."

"It looks like the underside of a mop. It's getting trimmed tonight."

"I'm growing it out long."

Severus snorted. "Since when? Just now?" He flattened Harry's stubborn cowlick with some Sleek-EZ Hair Gel. "There! At least now you don't look like a sheepdog's relative."

Harry pulled away and stomped into the bathroom. He groaned loudly when he looked in the mirror. "Ahh! Uncle Severus, I look like a dork! I can't go to class like this!"

"You can and you shall, now go and fetch your bookbag and go to the hall. Your friends have been asking for you."

"I feel like I'm going to puke."

"Try again, Mr. Potter." Severus crossed his arms.

"Your hair looks neat, Harry," Skull put in. "Like a barn swallow's nest."

"Thanks, Skull. I really needed to hear that," Harry grumbled.

"Skull, keep quiet," Severus ordered sharply.

Harry sulked, but Severus won, and he went to class. He wondered grumpily if Ron ever had to deal with these problems. Guardians!

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

At lunch Harry ate a simple cheese sandwich and crisps, and drank ice water. He quietly informed Ron that he would be playing in the upcoming Quidditch game that weekend.

"Good for you, mate! Hope you find the Snitch quick and we win."

Hermione, tired of hearing about Quidditch, brought up Flamel's biography. "Was it very interesting? I studied Sir Isaac Newton in primary school, he was a fascinating scientist."

Harry agreed, having also studied Newton and his Theory of Gravity.

Ron rolled his eyes as the two discussed the scientist, having no clue what they were babbling about. He turned to Neville and asked if he liked the Chudley Cannons, and soon was engaged in a discussion of who was the better professional Seeker and Chaser.

"So the mirror definitely said the Stone was here at the school?" Hermione hissed in his ear.

"Uh huh. But it disappeared before I could try and ask it any more questions," Harry told her.

"Where do you think it's hidden?"

"No idea," Harry shrugged. "But somebody's trying to steal it."

"Well, they can't get into the school, right?" Hermione mused.

"Unless they're already here," Harry said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there could be someone hiding here, waiting for their chance to steal it."

"An inside job?"

Harry nodded.

Hermione's eyes were wide. "But who? They'd have to be working for You-Know-Who."

"My thoughts exactly." Harry murmured.

"Harry, we have to tell someone! Like McGonagall or Professor Snape."

"Hermione, we don't even know if I'm right. Besides, I'm thinking that's why it was brought here, to protect it."

"Why not just leave it at Gringotts?"

"Because maybe Gringotts isn't safe."

"But Gringotts has never been broken into. It's impenetrable."

"Nothing's impenetrable. It's like saying the Titanic was unsinkable," Harry reminded her. "Where there's a will, there's a way."

"What are we going to do?"

"Try and figure out who the thief is."

"How do we do that?"

"Watch everyone and see if you can spot anything suspicious." Harry told her.

"All right." Hermione agreed. "I'm sure we could figure it out if we work at it. We'll need to keep a list of suspects."

"What are you going on about?" Ron asked, having caught Hermione's last sentence.

"Harry and I are on a mission to catch a thief," Hermione explained. She told Ron what they were planning. "Want to help?"

Ron looked dubious. "I guess. But I don't even know what to look for."

"Just keep your eyes open and your ear to the ground," advised the young witch.

"Whatever," sighed Ron. He was just happy that the Quidditch Cup was still within reach.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

"Mr. Potter, if you don't quit twitching, I'm Sticking you to the chair," an exasperated Potions Master told his ward that night, as he attempted to trim Harry's hair.

"But the back of my neck itches," Harry mumbled. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"It's a simple procedure," Severus snapped. "If you would be still, I wouldn't be in danger of making you bald." He snipped some more off the top of Harry's head.

Harry gulped and froze. "I'm not moving. I'm not moving," he muttered to himself over and over as Severus cut. Please God, I hope Severus knows what he's doing.

Bits of hair drifted down over his face as Severus moved and trimmed his bangs. Harry felt his nose twitch, then he sneezed.

"Harry James Potter!" cried the professor. "You almost made me shear off a huge clump of hair."

"Sorry. I couldn't help it. The hair tickles. Maybe I should have worn a mask."

"Never you mind. Hold still, I'm nearly finished."

Harry gritted his teeth. Finally the snipping stopped.

He felt Severus run a comb through his newly shorn locks, mutter a Drying Charm, and then brush off the hair that clung to his neck and face with a small soft bristle brush.

"Open your eyes, Harry."

Harry opened his eyes. "It's over?"

"Yes. Go and take a look in the mirror."

Harry cautiously went to see. To his shock, his hair wasn't a wreck, as he had feared it would be. Nor did he look like some hayseed farmboy. His hair fell in loose waves about his face, trimmed neatly above the ears, and the cowlick was gone. The back of his head was now even and no longer shaggy.

"Well?"

"It's . . . it looks really . . . nice, Uncle Severus." He ran his hand through the silky dark cap. Now he felt silly, making such a fuss over a haircut. "Thanks. Sorry I was such a pain in the rear."

"Next time perhaps you will trust me, hmm? I won't have anyone saying that I neglect you."

"Oh, I will." Harry reassured him. He gave his guardian an apologetic smile. "You cut hair much better than Aunt Petunia."

"I shall take that as a compliment," said Snape dryly. "Now, I believe you have homework?"

Harry sighed. "When don't I?" He pulled out his books and began to read. The weekend couldn't come soon enough.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

Finally, the day of the match dawned. Harry discovered that his goggles fit much better over his trimmed hair than they had previously. Hermione had even commented that she liked his hair, that it made him look sharp. "I think that style suits you well, Harry. It makes you look older, more sophisticated. Right, Ron?"

Ron looked up. "Huh?"

"Harry's hair. Don't you think it makes him look older?"

Ron squinted. "I dunno. He still looks eleven to me."

"Boys! You're all hopeless!" Hermione groaned.

Recalling that conversation made Harry grin. He had woken up early because Wood wanted them to drill before the game. So he spent two hours on the pitch Saturday morning before going to shower and eat breakfast. He ate sparingly, and drank his nutrient supplement. Severus was not refereeing this game, but he had assured Harry that he would be keeping a close eye on the game. That made Harry feel a little less apprehensive. He still didn't know who was behind those attacks, but Severus was doing his best to protect him. Harry fingered his protective amulet, which he wore beneath his shirt. He had given his pocket watch to Severus to hold till the game was over.

The stands were packed when Harry flew out on his Nimbus with the rest of the team. As they made a lap around the stands so everyone could see them, he saw Ron, Hermione, and Neville waving a large banner that read Go, Harry, Go! Catch That Snitch! As he passed the Slytherin side, several of that House made derogatory comments, but he saw Severus give him an encouraging look and applaud lightly as he passed. Harry felt as if he had already won the Cup. Severus was supporting him, despite the fact that the Potions Master found Quidditch a waste of time. Even Malfoy gave him a nod. Harry grinned and waited for the whistle to sound as he hovered in place.

The Quaffle was released by Madam Hooch, and the game was on!

Harry soared up and above the other players, who were scrambling for the Quaffle or trying to knock the Bludgers back towards the other team. Once he was above the fray, he concentrated upon finding the Snitch. His eyes darted here, there, and everywhere, searching. He blessed Severus for paying for new glasses, so his eyes were doubly sharp.

As Harry sought the elusive golden globe, Severus made certain to watch his ward closely. He had examined Harry's Nimbus just before the match and it was clean of any jinxes. He looked about the pitch scanning the area for any unusual magical presences or creatures. Nothing. Still, he remained on alert until the game ended, when Harry dove like a bat out of hell and caught the Snitch a mere three feet from the ground.

Severus forced himself to applaud and give his ward a smile of approval, though he longed to yank the boy from his broom and shake him hard for being such a daredevil. "This is why I hate Quidditch," groused the Potions Master to Skullduggery.

"Calm down, Sev," the raven trilled soothingly. "The bran-boy's fine. He flies well."

"Who asked for your two Knuts?"

Skull ignored Severus' comment and glanced about, spotting Quirrell leaving the stands with a very sour look on his face. "Psst! Sev, look there! Professor Troll Breath seems to be awfully mad, for someone who claims to take no sides in Quidditch."

Severus turned his head and saw what the raven meant. He rose and followed silently after the other professor, his instincts rousing. There was something not right about Quirinius, and Severus suspected him greatly of being a pawn of the Dark Lord.

He caught up to Quirrell just as the other was heading towards the Forbidden Forest. "Something wrong, Quirinius?" he queried silkily, his tone edge in steel. "Squeamish?"

Quirrell turned, shaking visibly. "S-Severus, I'm n-n-not sure w-w-what you m-m-mean."

"Where are you going in such a hurry? Was the game not to your liking? Or do you have an important meeting with the centaurs?"

"N-No. I-I d-d-don't . . .I-I'm just . . ."

"Just what? Going to meet your contact, to slip him some more information?" Severus demanded, grabbing Quirrell by the front of his robes and glaring at him. "Is that what you really are, Quirinius? A spy? Because you are the poorest excuse for a Defense professor I have ever seen."

Quirrell laughed nervously. "S-Severus, I d-d-don't know what you're t-t-talking about!" His eyes darted back and forth. "P-Put me d-d-down."

"Quirinius, don't lie. You're terrible at it. Why are you so interested in the Sorcerer's Stone?"

"B-Because we have t-to keep it safe!"

"A likely excuse. You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," Severus leaned in until he was almost nose to nose with the purple turbaned wizard.

"Of course not, Severus!"

"If I find out you've been double-crossing us, Quirinius . . ." Severus trailed off, preferring to let the cowardly slob draw his own conclusions.

"D-Don't be silly!" Quirrell gave a weak chuckle.

"We'll talk again soon, and you had better convince me where your true loyalties lie. Or else." He released the other with a sharp jerk, then whirled on his heel and strode back to the castle. Quirrell was definitely hiding something. He had barely been able to look Snape in the eye, and that was a sure sign of deception, or Severus wasn't a secret agent.

On the way there, he encountered Harry, and clapped him on the shoulder and said he had played a good game, then he gave Harry his pocket watch back. Then he left his ward to the celebration that followed, as Gryffindor was in the lead and only had to play Slytherin one more time to claim the coveted Quidditch Cup.

Skullduggery fluttered beside him. "Well? What did Mr. Tongue-tied have to say?"

"He protested his innocence, but I didn't believe a word." Severus said out of the corner of his mouth.

"He's guilty as sin, Sev. I'd watch him closely."

"I intend to. Go and keep an eye on Harry, Skull."

"My pleasure." The raven winged away, singing, "We Are the Champions" while flying circles backwards above Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team's heads.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

Not long after the Quidditch game, Harry received a letter during the morning mail drop. He knew Hedwig had brought it to Severus first for inspection, as the professor was still insisting on examining Harry's post for any maleficent jinxes. He fed his owl a piece of ham from his plate and stroked her before tearing open the letter.

Harry,

I am very disappointed with you. Not only did you fail to follow my advice, you have allowed the greasy cauldron bat to dictate rules and regulations to you, as if you were a slave. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, a Potter taking orders from a slimy half-blood! Severus Snape is an evil despot, he is unfit to hold the position of professor; and especially unfit to be your guardian.

Why will you not see this? Your mother knew the truth, she used to call him friend until he betrayed her, then she saw the wisdom in my words, and abandoned him to his dark purpose. Your father detested him, he knew what sort of sly treacherous bastard Snape was from the beginning. He would be horrified to see you cozying up to such a viper. Snape is a servant of darkness, don't let him fool you.

This is your second warning—tell the git to go to hell and leave him.

Or else you'll regret it.

The Fifth Marauder

Harry felt a cold chill run down his spine.

"Who's it from, Harry?" asked Hermione curiously.

"You look pale, Harry. Anything wrong?" Neville inquired.

"Is it bad news?" Ron wanted to know.

Harry sighed and shoved the letter at him, "Read it for yourself."

Ron did, with Hermione leaning over his shoulder.

"Harry, you'd better show this to Professor Snape," cried Hermione.

"She's right, mate," Ron said, ignoring the rest of the table gaping at him for agreeing with Hermione. "Whoever this bloke is, he's cracked as my grandmother's china teapot."

"I know. I'll show it to him soon as I can."

Harry tucked the letter into his pocket and tried not to feel as if there were a big bullseye painted on his back.

But he couldn't get a moment alone with the potions professor until almost lunch time. Snape was in his office, grading homework when Harry rushed in and showed him the letter.

Severus read it and glared at the parchment with a look that should have made it spontaneously combust. "Harry, I want you to promise me you will go nowhere by yourself and stay within the castle at night, unless accompanied by an adult. Whoever this Fifth Marauder is, he seems to be a vengeful sort. He could be anywhere, but I doubt he will strike if there are witnesses."

"Could he hurt you?"

"It's possible, but I'm more concerned about you. Promise me."

"I promise," Harry agreed. "Do you know who he might be?"

"No. But I intend to find out. If any more of these letters come, or something else happens, come to me immediately."

"I will, Uncle Sev."

Severus ruffled Harry's hair. "Get to lunch. You're starving, I can hear your stomach grumbling. Skull will accompany you," Severus nudged the sleeping raven awake, he was snoozing on the back of his chair.

With the raven perched on his shoulder, Harry went to lunch, wishing whoever this Fifth Marauder was would just go drown himself in the lake. This was all he needed.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

For the next few weeks, Harry's friends, including, oddly enough, Malfoy, made certain he was escorted everywhere. Ron even accompanied him into the bathroom, which caused a fierce quarrel between them, with Harry insisting that was over the top.

"But Harry, a lot of crimes and pranks are committed in the loo!" Ron protested. "Fred and George used to make the toilets explode on me and stuff. And my Uncle Mark got turned into a turtle by a crazy customer when he went to use the loo in his restaurant. He was almost made into turtle soup!"

"Ron, you're being ridiculous!" Harry yelled, turning bright red and stalking out of the bathroom. He bumped into Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," growled the other. "I thought Snape got you new glasses."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry growled, walking quickly down the hall to the dungeons.

"Hey, Harry!" Ron called.

Harry kept walking. "Leave me alone, Ron! I'm going to Snape's quarters."

"But—"

"Weasley, let me handle him," Draco ordered arrogantly, and followed Harry. "Where are you going?" he asked as he caught up to Harry.

"Somewhere I can pee in peace." Harry muttered, face flaming. "The professor has a bathroom in his suite and it's warded, so . . ."

Draco smirked. "I hope you have good bladder control, Potter. Or an extra set of trousers, because this isn't around the corner, you know."

Harry scowled. "At least I won't feel like a bloody toddler."

He reached Snape's quarters and murmured the password, then turned the knob and stalked inside, slamming the door behind him.

Severus was reading a potions journal. "Is there a problem, Harry?"

"No. Everything's just fine, can't you tell?" his ward snapped. "I just want some privacy." He crossed the den and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. As he did so, he heard a knock on the door of Snape's quarters, and then Draco's voice.

Harry stayed in the bathroom for awhile, then finally emerged. Draco was waiting on the couch.

"I'm going to study," Harry announced, and sat at the table and began to work on his Astronomy.

He was soon joined by Draco, and then Neville, Ron, and Hermione. He pretended not to notice Ron, focusing on learning about Jupiter and all its moons, until the redhead murmured, "Harry, I was only trying to help."

"Drop it, Ron, okay? You're not my bloody bodyguard."

Ron winced. "Harry, you never know what could happen . . ."

Harry jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing. "I said, shut up about it!"

Severus set down his journal and rose to his feet. "Mr. Potter, if you cannot control your temper and speak in a normal tone of voice, you can leave and return to Gryffindor Tower. Or go to your room."

Harry turned. "Ron started it! Why don't you send him away, sir?"

"Mr. Weasley is not the one screaming at the top of his lungs. Now moderate that tone, am I understood?"

"All I want is to be left alone!" Harry shouted, too fed up to guard his tongue, or recognize his guardian's warning tone.

Severus stiffened. Then he lifted his hand and pointed. "Go to your room, young man. Immediately!" His tone could have stripped a dragon's hide off of it. "I shall be in to discuss your behavior soon."

That penetrated Harry's bad mood. Biting his lip, Harry obeyed, slamming the door after him.

All three of the other children gasped. Snape looked ready to explode. He turned away briefly and counted to ten under his breath. Then he said, in a deceptively calm tone, "You may continue to study until eight o'clock."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione whispered, and dropped her eyes to her text.

Ron did the same, and thought about how Harry was so going to regret his temper tantrum. He wondered if Snape was going to take Harry's Nimbus away and make him scrub the dungeon.

Draco recalled the paddle in the drawer of Snape's desk and winced, thinking that his rival was going to have trouble sitting down tomorrow, if the expression on Snape's face was anything to go by. Then he too bent his head and began to read.

Severus returned to his recliner, struggling to get hold of his simmering temper. He did not want to confront the boy while he was so angry, he needed time to cool down and think rationally. He took a few deep breaths and started to read again. He would give the defiant child half-an-hour to think about what he'd done and then he would go and give the wretch the rough edge of his tongue, and maybe even some time scrubbing his dirtiest cauldrons.

You could have heard a pin drop, the room was so quiet.

Finally, the three students began to quietly discuss their homework, and Severus glanced at the clock. It was seven forty-five. Fifteen minutes later, he dismissed his students, they went without saying a word, though Hermione did cast a worried glance at the shut door to Harry's room.

Severus rose and stalked over to the boy's room, tapped once, and went in.

"We need to have a talk—" he began, then broke off as he saw that Harry was asleep, sprawled half on and half off the bed.

Severus approached the bed, scowling down at his sleeping charge. He felt like shaking the boy awake, but then changed his mind. "Don't think being asleep will get you out of a well deserved tongue-lashing, boy," he snapped. "I'll just save it up for tomorrow morning, when you'll be nice and rested and can appreciate every last word, you insolent brat."

Then he Switched Harry's uniform for his pajamas and tucked the covers about his wayward ward. Perhaps it was better this way. He would have more time to plan an appropriate punishment.

He left the room on cat's feet, the dim illumination of a night light casting shadows on the wall behind him.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

A silent alarm around twelve midnight woke Irma from a sound sleep. The alarm was silent to all save herself, she had set a ward about the library to alert her if someone had entered it and was doing damage to anything inside, or trying to remove a book without signing it out.

"Bloody Merlin's ghost!" she swore as she rose, Summoning her bedrobe and slippers, and grabbing her wand off the nightstand. "I knew those wretched children couldn't resist breaking into the library after curfew. When I catch whoever is in there, they're going to wish they never got out of bed this morning!"

She quickly exited her quarters and walked swiftly across the hall to the library doors, cancelling the ward as she crossed the threshold. The annoying buzzing quit ringing in her ears, and a single overhead lamp came on as she walked in, illuminating a horrifying sight.

There was a large table in the center of the room, to the left of the circulation desk and in front of the bookshelf of the Society of Ravens. Various scraps of paper from several books were scattered on top of and beneath it, and ink was slowly dripping from an upended inkwell onto the polished wood floor. Quills were snapped in two and flung on the floor as well. But that was not the worst.

Irma put a hand to her mouth as she crept closer to the table, fury pounding a tempo in her head as she took in the damage done to her precious books and library. How dare they? How DARE they? There was an odd black lump in the middle of the table, lying next to a book whose title read Secrets of the Roman Augurs, it was an old text detailing how the ancient Romans used auguries to predict important events in their lives. Irma recalled that many augurs read omens in the entrails of goats or birds.

She stared down at the table, uncomprehending at first. It took her eyes and brain a few moments to process the atrocious sight that met her eyes.

Her owl, a tiny elf owl, lay upon the table, eviscerated. A sign was pinned to the poor thing's corpse.

Beware! Next time this could be you!

"Merlin have mercy!" she whimpered, half of her fist still covering her mouth. She began to cry. "Pippin! Oh, Pippin!"

Her mind whirled, trying in vain to figure out who could have committed this terrible deed. She felt equal parts of crippling sorrow and burning rage. Someone had killed her familiar, gentle Pippin who had been her companion for over twenty years.

Then she heard a noise behind her.

"Who's there?" she cried, and started to turn, her wand gripped in her fist.

Something struck her hard in the back of the head.

She cried out, then felt herself falling . . .falling into blackness.