Ron, Harry, and Hermione shared a look of disgust as Professor Umbridge wrapped up her speech at the opening feast. A murmur of dissent ran through the hall, but for once even the Weasley twins didn’t object too loudly.

Dumbledore rose and took a deep breath to finish his speech but sat down again, abruptly. He pushed his chair back a little and began muttering quietly to something beside him. Necks craned all around the room as the students tried to see what was going on and even the Professors were watching with interest. It was as if there was a child standing by his chair, except there was nobody to be seen. The old man’s face changed slowly from an expression of mild surprise, to one of determination. He spoke a little louder, and those closest to the staff table caught a few words spoken in a language they had never heard before. After about a minute of hushed conversation, Dumbledore straightened again.

“Apologies for that interruption. If I could beg your patience, I would like for all of you to remain for a short while after the feast, as I have a few last minute instructions for you tonight. But for now- dig in.”

The old man waved his arms expansively and, as always, there were shocked gasps as the food appeared suddenly on the waiting platters. The students started filling their plates, mostly ignoring the bowls of mint humbugs in preference of real food. Those still watching the headmaster saw him beckon over the head of each house for a quiet conference.

Harry and Hermione were among the few who were still inspecting the head table. Ron would have joined them except he had become distracted by his brothers, who were attempting to summon his new prefect’s badge. They saw Snape’s expression morph into outright irritation, Sprout and Flitwick looked shocked, and McGonagall angry.

Snape looked away from the other professors, his black eyes scanned across the student tables. He passed quickly over the Slytherins, glanced at the Ravenclaws, paused over the Hufflepuff table, tilting his head slightly to consider them. Then his gaze fell on the Gryffindor table, by far the rowdiest.  He looked at the Weasley twins for a long moment, watching them struggle with their brother, then his eyes fell on Harry and narrowed in dislike. Harry looked away nervously and rubbed at his arms. He felt so cold in the hall tonight.

“He doesn’t look any happier this year, does he?” Ron said, finally having stuck his badge to his robes with a charm as a last resort.

“They’re all acting a bit oddly,” Harry said.

Hermione hummed, distractedly, “I wonder what it is they’re talking about.”

“Probably realised they picked the wrong prefects,” Fred joked, leaning over and spearing one of Ron’s roast potatoes with his knife, ignoring the pile right in front of him. “Apart from Hermione of course.”

“It looks like they picked the right people to me,” Harry said stoically, hiding a slight pang of jealousy. Then he reconsidered, “Well, apart from Malfoy, but Snape probably chose him, so that doesn’t count.

“Who do you think Professor Dumbledore was talking to?” Hermione asked the twins. Harry suspected she was trying to avoid a fight.

“Could be anyone,” George shrugged. “Didn’t sound like Mermish, or Troll, or Gobbledegook.”

“Or Gnome, Seelie, or Centauric.”

“Or French,” Hermione put in.

“Well, of course, it isn’t French. Why would it be French?”

“Why shouldn’t it? You said Troll- I think we would have noticed if there had been a troll. And Centauric isn’t even a language- they speak Greek.”

“It was small, whatever it was,” Harry said, interrupting quickly. “Bigger than a gnome, about the same size as a goblin.”

“Probably a house elf,” Ron said.

They all looked at him.

“What? It’s the right size, they can make themselves invisible. They probably have some sort of language, right? Every other magical creature does. There’s loads of them in the castle…”

Harry nodded, “Good points.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Ron grinned back, “But, what d’you think it said that means we all have to hang around after the feast? Usually, they want to ship all the first years off to bed as quickly as possible.”

Nobody had an answer to that, so they shrugged and settled down to eat. Still throwing the occasional glance to the head table, where the staff kept shuffling about to talk to each other, mostly ignoring the food in front of them. Snape was still glaring at the tables, eyes resting momentarily on certain students. Harry tried to ignore him. As far as he knew, he was yet to break any school rules this year.

When the last plates had begun to vanish and all that was left on the tables were some crystal glass bowls of sweets, Dumbledore stood again and silence fell instantly.

“Again, I am sorry to ask this of you all, especially after such a long day. And you have my thanks for your patience. In a few moments, I will be asking you to split up, with all of our male students to remain in this room, and our female students to please make their way to the Entrance Hall.   Once there, please arrange yourself into groups by year and by house. Prefects, are to remain with your first year students.”

Harry was sure that this intake of first years was going to think Dumbledore more mad than he had done four years ago. A lot of people looked baffled by the instructions and a few groups whispered to each other, probably to check they had the right instructions. Dumbledore let this continue for a minute or so, before raising his hand for silence.

“My hope is that this will only be a brief interruption to the evening and I expect you will all be in bed in good time. Breakfast will run slightly later in the morning to allow those of you who need it to get a well-deserved ‘lie in’.”

“Shame it’s Sunday tomorrow,” Ron muttered. “Can you imagine the look on McGonagall’s face if we had to start classes late on the first day?”

“I wish you all goodnight and hand you over to your Heads of House. Off you trot.” The staff stood up and the students took this as a signal that they should start moving too.

Hermione rushed to her feet to gather together all of the first year Gryffindor girls before the other Gryffindor prefects had even begun to move. “See you in the common room when whatever this is is over?” She asked, hurriedly.

“Course,” Ron nodded, beckoning the new boys towards him rather than going to get them, “Oi! You with the spiky hair, get over here!”

Soon, Harry and Ron were surrounded by a whispering look of wide-eyed first years. Harry got quickly tired of them staring at him like he might explode, and sent Ron an apologetic look before moving to join Neville and Dean. Seamus was there too, but he was acting in a distinctly odd fashion, and when Harry came to sit next to him, he stood up and moved to sit on the other side of Dean instead.

After about five minutes of waiting, the only people remaining in the Great Hall were the male students and two Professors; Snape and Flitwick.

Snape stood at the front of the hall looking dour, with his arms folded across his chest. With a flick of his wrist, his wand appeared in his hand and he used it to cast some non-verbal spell on himself. He looked very reluctant to be at the front, but Flitwick was busy.

The small charms professor was constructing some sort of opaque wall which blocked off the dais around staff table, it was about 10 feet tall, and had a gap in one side, like a door. 

Snape sighed, scowling at the students in front of him.

“We are going to be taking you in your year groups to discuss something before you leave this evening. I would appreciate it” He paused to glare, “if you could manage to behave while we are occupied. It would be unfortunate to have to take house points so soon in the year. Prefects and first years will be first. Professor Flitwick will see Slytherin and Hufflepuff houses, I will see Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.”

Groans came from the Gryffindor table, despite their attempts to suppress them.

“Once you have been released, you will head straight to your dormitories.”

“Do not pass go. Do not collect £200.” Dean muttered to Seamus, who looked confused. Snape shot them a venomous look.

“A prefect will be present who will be able to give you access to your common room.”

Snape returned his voice to normal and turned to the gap in the new wall. When there was no sound of movement behind him, he whirled around to look at the prefects. “Get a move on!”

They followed, Ron looking especially glum as he followed behind the little kids.

Chatter broke out when it looked like they were going to be waiting for a few minutes at least.

“What’s this all about?” Neville asked the twins, who had decided that it would be more comfortable for them to sit on top of the table, rather than on the benches.

Fred looked solemn, “Well they’re going to tell you all about it in a minute, but you see, when a Daddy wizard loves a Mummy witch very much-“

“Or when a Daddy wizard loves a Mummy muggle very much-“ George said.

“Or a Daddy wizard loves a beautiful veela…”

Neville turned a bright shade of pink and started stammering nervously. Obviously, the idea of getting that kind of talk from Professor Snape was too much for him.

“They don’t know either, Neville” Harry said, tired.

“But we do, Harry- we can lend you a book with pictures if you-.”

“I meant,” Harry interrupted quickly, “That it isn’t going to be what this is about. They decided to do this about half an hour ago. If they were going to do a talk about that, then they wouldn’t interrupt the first night for it. They’d do it next weekend or something. Nah, something’s happened.”

“Do you think it’s something to do with him?” One of the twins asked, looking worried.

“No,” Harry said, too quickly. “No, I think it’s something else.”

Harry tried to ignore the looks that his housemates were giving him, choosing instead to look around at the other tables. They gradually subsided into quiet conversation, swapping summer news and arguing over quidditch teams.

After about twenty minutes, the large group of first years re-emerged from the impromptu room. They were followed out by the prefects, who looked a bit stressed. The first years didn’t seem too bothered, though, so whatever it was couldn’t be that bad. Well, not Voldemort bad. Harry scratched at his arm, absently. The next group to get taken through was the second years. There was a sudden pop, and a few packs of Exploding snap appeared on the house tables. There were some cheers from the Hufflepuff table, the Ravenclaws started organising a tournament, and some fourth year Gryffindor’s started throwing the cards at each other. Dean surreptitiously moved the deck of cards away from Seamus.

“What do you think you are doing?” A voice demanded, frightening the group of older Gryffindors and startling Dennis Creevey awake from where he had fallen asleep at the table. As he sat up, he dislodged the house of cards which the Weasley’s had built on his back. Snape instantly had all of the cards encased in some sort of bubble charm, obviously expecting them to explode.

Harry coughed, unwillingly drawing attention to himself. “Um, they’re muggle cards, Professor. Not dangerous.”

Snape scowled, “Muggle cards are banned at Hogwarts, Potter. Five points from Gryffindor.”

“Why are only muggle cards banned?” Colin Creevey asked, indignantly. He pulled a card out of his brother’s collar and added it to a pile on the table.

“They encourage gambling.” The professor snapped. “Creevey, the Second years are next.”

Dennis stood up a little groggily and tottered after him, rubbing at his eyes.

The Gryffindors heard a tinkling noise and glanced up at the hourglasses. They watched as five rubies flew up into the top glass. 

“Are we in negative points?” Harry checked. “Is that even possible?”

“Thanks, Potter,” Seamus said, bitterly.

Harry gave him a look of total confusion. “What? They’re Dean’s cards, and all I did was tell Snape that they weren’t explosive. Do you think he wasn’t going to take points if they had been?”

He shook his head. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with Seamus, but it was too late to deal with it tonight.

Third Year’s went next, and then were followed, surprisingly, by the 7th year students. Maybe the theory was that there was less of them. Whyever they were chosen, this group took the longest so far. Flitwick was done after fifteen minutes, with some of the older Slytherins looking cross, and one of the Hufflepuffs totally panic-stricken. The Ravenclaws left next, and two of them looked like they might have been crying. The students who were still waiting became worried all over again.

Flitwick was almost finished by the time Snape finally released Fred and George Weasley. The two boys looked deathly pale and incredibly nervous. Snape gave them some final, quiet instructions, and they nodded back at him silently. They left the hall without looking at any of the other students, thoroughly freaking out their remaining housemates.

“Bloody hell.” Neville muttered, “What did he do to them?”

The others shook their heads, clueless.

After Flitwick had disposed of his last group, he dismantled his charmed walls. There was no need for them to be there since there was only one group left. The charms professor did keep up one little segment, which seemed to have been hidden behind the big wall.  Snape stood in front of this and began explaining, finally. By now, there were only about fifteen fifth years still in the room.

“This evening, whilst unpacking and cleaning the Hogwarts’ Express, the school elves came across something which is banned from the school property. In the interests of the safety of you and your peers, it has been decided that your belongings will be searched for contraband items.”

The boys shared a look of confusion and Harry noticed instantly that Seamus looked the most worried, and was a little concerned about what his own face might be saying.

Technically, Harry didn’t have anything illegal in his bag. The only thing which Snape was likely to object to was his father’s invisibility cloak, and the Marauder’s Map and Snape already knew that he owned those.

Harry was fairly certain that the worst thing that Seamus would have in his trunk was going to be some girly magazines and probably a bottle firewhiskey he’d snatched from home. So really, he didn’t have much to worry about.

He realised now why the Weasleys had looked so stressed. Fred and George were trying to start up that joke shop of theirs and Harry would bet that those ton-tongue toffees of theirs had at least one ingredient which would be frowned upon - let alone the finished products. And their whole stock of fireworks. Yeah, they were probably in quite a bit of trouble.

At the same time, Harry really doubted that they would get kicked out for it. Especially with both parents in the Order of the Phoenix, alongside the Headmaster and Depute Headmistress.  Harry blinked, there was definitely a lot of favouritism in the school for Gryffindors.

“Longbottom, we will start with you, follow me. Leave that Mimbletonia here, but have it in the greenhouses by lunch tomorrow.”

Snape definitely did not favour the Gryffindors, except with his sharp tongue. He led Neville away through the doorway and as soon as they crossed the threshold, the sound of the professor’s berating was lost – obviously there was some sort of ward up. The remaining boys looked at each other in panic.

“Well this is just bloody amazing, isn’t it?” Seamus huffed, sinking onto the nearest bench and folding his arms over his chest. “They haven’t cared in probably hundreds of years and they pick this one to look through all of our things. Where the hell has that come from?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “If they’d picked last year, or the year before, you’d still be in trouble. Wonder who brought the drugs though.”

“What makes you think it’s drugs?” Michael Corner asked him. In more of a challenging way than accusatory.

“I don’t”, Dean shrugged, not rising to the bait. “Just what Snape said, about it being dangerous and illegal. Sounds like drugs to me.”

“They aren’t going to be bothered by a little butterbeer, though, are they?” Seamus laughed nervously.

“They’ll be right pissed about firewhiskey though, Finnegan.”

Seamus practically hissed back at the smirking Ravenclaw. Harry just ignored them, sitting down again and trying to not think about what Snape would say to him. Harry felt totally exhausted, he had been looking forward to the feast and his bed in Gryffindor tower since the beginning of summer. Why did they have to drag it out so long? He wondered if Snape would pick him last out of spite. Probably.

Neville came back out of the room, almost jogging in his hurry to get away from Snape – obviously the professor still hadn’t forgiven Neville for the boggart incident last year. Snape appeared behind him, eyes sweeping the remaining students.

“Corner.” He turned away from the door, and Michael Corner grimaced to his friends before following him.

Snape called them all through, one at a time, taking maybe 5 minutes with each student. Seamus emerged, fuming and defeated, having spent a good 10 minutes longer with the man than anyone else so far. Snape watched him impassively as he left the great hall, stomping his feet, and beckoned the next person without any sign of interest.

As Harry had half-expected, Snape seemed content to leave him until last. Every time the professor came to collect another boy, Harry could feel Snape’s gaze resting on him.

Finally, after about forty minutes of waiting for this last group to be processed, just as Harry was seriously considering just abandoning his trunk and going to bed, Snape sent away the final Ravenclaw. He came over to stand next to Harry, looking down his long nose at him.

“Potter. I do hope this will be quick. I do have meetings in the morning.”

Harry nodded, climbing out from behind the bench on shaky legs.

The little room was probably about the same size as Dudley’s second bedroom. The walls were a smooth monotone off-white, which felt really surreal for a room in the middle of a castle like Hogwarts.

Snape sighed and flicked his wand to bring Harry’s trunk from a small pile at the back of the room. Harry noticed that the twins’ double trunk was still sitting there and guessed that the professors were going to sort through some of the stuff later.

Another flick had the trunk sitting on top of a small wooden table which Harry assumed was hastily conjured, since it seemed to be carved from a single block of wood. Snape sighed yet again, and Harry supposed it must have been a very long evening.

“Okay Potter, what am I going to find in here? I assure you I will find whatever it is you think I will not notice.”

“Nothing, Sir.”

Snape folded his arms and stared down at Harry.

“Uh, would an invisibility cloak count?”

“For any other student, definitely. However, you have special dispensation” Snape spat, “from the headmaster for possession, but not usage of that item.”

“Oh.”

Snape opened the trunk up and groaned at the mess that the contents were in. He began by moving his wand in a series of flicks and Harry assumed he was casting some accios. The invisibility cloak came flying out of the trunk and Snape caught it and put it on the table. A moment later, the wrapped present from Sirius flew out as well, along with Harry’s sneakoscope, and the marauder’s map.

Snape put the cloak and dark detector on the table, and grimaced over the map, before adding it to the pile. The package, he passed to Harry.

“Open this.”

Harry frowned, it was a private present, after all. Harry didn’t have any idea what it was and given who the present was from, he wasn’t at all sure that it would be safe to open in front of the man’s nemesis. A quick glance up at Snape assured Harry that the professor wasn’t going to take no for an answer and reluctantly, he tore the bright paper away. A piece of paper fell out and Harry’s hand shot out to grab it. He looked at the object briefly, wondering why on earth Sirius would send him a mirror of all things. The sheet of parchment seemed to be instructions from his godfather on how the mirror could be used for them to contact each other.

Harry looked up at Snape, who was waiting for him to finish examining the mirror. “It’s a two-way mirror?” Harry said, wondering if he would have to explain further.

“And who has the pair?” Snape asked shortly.

Harry grimaced, “My godfather.”

Snape huffed and held his hand out for it, adding it to the pile. He gestured for Harry to come closer to his trunk. Snape went through the outer pockets first, mostly pulling out sweets and Harry’s moneybag. He did come across a packet of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products, and scowled deeply, throwing the bag into a corner, next to the twin’s trunk, where there was a small stack of bags of sweets.

All of Harry’s school supplies followed, then his uniform. Snape muttered angrily about proper storage of ingredients as he found jars of potion’s materials wrapped inside pairs of socks. Harry nodded, trying to look contrite. He rubbed at his arms over his robes, it was really cold in the Great Hall tonight. He wished he could sit down again if Snape was going to take all night.

Snape started unpacking the rest of Harry’s muggle clothes from the bottom of the trunk, pulling a face over the state of them. Harry didn’t blame him- he knew they were huge and baggy, and really not a style that he would have chosen for himself.  

Snape pulled a tied plastic bag out next, one of a few which were left in the case.

“What are in these?” Snape asked.

“Swimming trunks, dress robes, and some clothes which need to be washed, Sir,” Harry said, leaning against the edge of the table.

Snape pulled the bags open one at a time, rustling the plastic of the bag in an interested way. He glanced at the trunks, and dress robes. Then he looked up at Harry before taking the last bag. “Take off your outer robes, and turn out your pockets.”

Harry gulped quietly. He had been hoping that Snape wouldn’t ask that. He took a deep breath, pulling the stuff out of his pockets first. He did this slowly, keeping an eye on the potion’s master. Snape seemed to have run out of space, so he took a moment to expand the table, giving himself room to tip the next bag out. Harry put some quills and parchment onto a new empty piece of the table.

Snape spilled the carrier bag’s contents onto the table, and Harry held his breath, not moving. The man seemed reluctant to touch the clothes, which was fair enough considering they were the already worn clothes of a teenager. Snape noticed that there was actually one shirt, with many more stuffed inside, shaking them out, he drew in a quick breath.

Harry stared at the man, unable to move, waiting for his reaction.

Snape blinked down at the clothes for a few moments. Slowly, he reached out a hand to touch the shirts, his hand twitched for a second before the man clenched his jaw with a click and he started searching through the pile.

Harry kept staring, willing the man to just ascertain that there was nothing illegal there, and get this over with. Willing the man to move on so he could just go to bed and sleep.

Snape shook his head, then froze for a moment in what he was doing. He cocked his head to one side and looked over his shoulder at the Gryffindor. “Potter, breathe. Calm down. You are attempting to cast a compulsion charm.”

Harry blinked. He wasn’t, was he? He took a breath and was surprised to feel a slight subsidence in the tension in the room. Snape nodded back at him and swept all of the clothes back into their bag. With one last charm, he summoned all of the remaining junk out of the bottom of the case, sorting through it quickly, and pushing everything which was obviously rubbish into a heap.

“Do you wish to keep any of this?” The man asked, “Otherwise I will banish it.”

Harry glanced over the pile from a distance, all that was there was a load of crushed gunk which was probably once food, and some old broken quills and scrunched parchment.

“No, Sir.” He croaked.

Snape got on with carefully packing the rest of the stuff back into the trunk. He was very efficient and Harry noticed there was a lot more space in there now. He wondered if the man had done this for every single case, surely not?

Snape took a deep breath, and drummed his fingers against the table, looking down at the plastic bag he had kept out. He spun around suddenly and Harry took a couple of steps backwards out of surprise.

“Right, Potter.” He stopped and rubbed at his face with one hand. “Right, obviously we need to talk tonight. I will fetch Madame Pomfrey and your Head of-“

“Please don’t, Professor.” Harry interrupted, looking down abruptly as the man made eye contact with him.

“Potter, I have no-“

“You do have a choice, Sir. Or I do, and I don’t want you to say anything.”

“You are a child, Potter, whatever you may think and I have a duty-“

“My guardian’s know, Sir. And it honestly isn’t a problem anymore- I just didn’t have a chance to get rid of those.”

“Stop interrupting,” Snape ordered. “Whatever has happened, it is most likely of a… delicate nature, and therefore it is appropriate for you to inform either the matron or Professor McGonagall. I am bound by my duty as a teacher to make them aware that there is a situation.”

“It is delicate, Sir.” Harry grimaced, “But I don’t think that they would understand.”

“It isn’t a male issue is it?” Snape looked positively queasy at the idea.

Harry laughed, reflexively. “God, no.” He shook his head, “it’s just difficult to explain.”

“Fine,” Snape said. “Remove your cloak, so I can check that this isn’t one elaborate ruse to conceal something, and then we will talk, and if I deem it insignificant, we need not mention this to anyone else. Is that acceptable, Mr. Potter?”

Harry bit his lip. Figuring that short of obliviating Snape, there wasn’t much he could do about the situation, so he nodded. Obliviating Snape sounded about as easy as pulling the wool over Dumbledore’s eyes. Besides, there was always a chance the man would just drop it. And god knows, the man wasn’t likely to get a lower opinion of Harry than he already had.

Reluctantly, Harry undid the fastenings on his robes and pulled them off, so he was standing in his t-shirt and jeans. Snape took the robes off him, but he wasn’t interested in looking through the pockets. Rather half-heartedly, he cast a spell which turned out all of Harry’s pockets at once and a spare sickle and ballpoint pen bounced off the floor.

Snape dumped the robe on the table having lost interest and instead took a step closer, to look at Harry’s arm.

Harry’s right arm had an ugly red scar on it, still in the process of healing. The edges were jagged and the scar curved around to take up most of the inside of his forearm.

“Well, that explains what happened to those clothes.” Snape breathed. “Thank Merlin, I thought you were going to tell me you were female.”

“No, Sir.”

Snape rolled his eyes at Harry, “You are attempting to cast compulsions again. I really think this would be easier if you would take a calming draught and let me bring you to a medical professional.”

“Please don’t, Sir. It’s healing, I swear.”

Snape was staring at his arm, reaching out to take hold of an uninjured part of the wrist. With his other hand hovering over the wound, he traced the pattern which was just visible.

“How did it happen? You didn’t-?”

“No!” Harry rushed. “Not me. Last summer – the graveyard? There was a potion…”

“Ah,” Snape said. “The Lazarus Hundir?”

“Er…”

“Bone, flesh, blood?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Did Pettigrew use the same knife throughout the ritual?”

“Yeah, it was gross.”

Snape sighed. “And it hasn’t healed properly since?” Harry shook his head.

“And why did you not seek help?”

Harry threw up his free arm. “Why do you think? It’s a bloody great Dark Mark! Everyone would freak out about it. How do you think that trial would have gone last month if they all thought I’d carved Voldemort’s symbol into my arm? The Daily Prophet is already making out that I’m a total lunatic.”

“Your relatives?”

“Told me to make sure I didn’t get any blood on their new carpet.”

“I see.”

Harry hoped he didn’t.

“And nobody at Headquarters noticed because-?”

“I wore my robes all the time, they didn’t really notice. I kept all the old bandages in that bag because I couldn’t chuck them out without somebody noticing. And Ron doesn’t notice that kind of thing, so he wasn’t going to say anything.”

They stood for a moment, both looking at the wound. There was, if one looked close enough, a rough resemblance to the dark mark, carved into Harry’s flesh.

“Pettigrew didn’t say anything when he did it. And even He didn’t when he was talking. I don’t think anyone noticed it when I got back, apart from Mood- Crouch. And by then they had Cedric’s body in the Hospital wing, and I couldn’t go there.” Harry cut himself off abruptly, aware that he was rambling.

Snape bit his lip. “But have you felt anything from it? Any heat? Or Pain?”

“It kind of…tingles?” Harry said. “I think. I might be imagining it. Usually when it happens, my scar is already painful, and that’s way worse, so it’s hard to tell.”

“Have you-. Has anybody apparated with you while you are feeling this?”

Harry frowned, confused. “No?”

“It really would be best to avoid that, Potter.”

Harry’s eyes widened, “That’s how it works? Why did nobody tell me?”

“Have you told anybody that you have been experiencing pain in your scar?” Snape asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Bearing in mind that only Death Eaters and the Headmaster are aware of this fact.”

“Oh, no... Just Ron and Hermione.” Harry frowned, “So is it really a Dark Mark, sir? Can I get rid of it, I mean?”

Snape leaned back against the table, thinking. “The ceremony for the Mark is far more involved than what happened to you. There is usually a binding ceremony involved, and the mark is a tattoo, and not cut with a knife.”

“So it isn’t?”

Snape’s face scrunched slightly, “No. However, the cut was made with a ritual knife, so it is unlikely that you will be left without a scar. Also, it is slightly worrying that the wound has not healed, which is likely due to Pettigrew knowing nothing about potions, and not cleaning his knife. Or because he did not care about the state you would be in afterwards, since he didn’t expect you to last the hour.”

“Uh…?”

“With treatment, the scar will likely heal but will remain visible. You might try using glamours while you are in school, but this will drain a lot of your energy. There is also the option of covering it with a concealing poultice when it is no longer so open to infections.”

Harry nodded, swallowing. “So are you going to tell everyone then, Sir?”

Snape looked at him, evaluating. “It will have to be mentioned in your medical notes in the Hospital Wing what treatment you are receiving. But if it is your wish that the nature of the injury not be mentioned, then I see no need for such a thing.”

“Really?” Harry was astounded.

“I am quite capable of providing the potions you will require for recovery, and it is I who would be responsible for brewing them in any case. I cannot guarantee that if your condition worsens it will not become necessary to inform others.”

Harry digested that for a moment, figuring out what it was that Snape had actually said.

“O-kay.”

“Which means that, if you consent, I will be the one to handle your treatment. You will come to my office when required to have that arm looked at. You will follow my instructions as to how you treat it yourself. If you have any other health problems, you must inform me. If you take anything at all, you must come to me. And if those idiotic experimenting friends of yours offer you anything, or may have tampered with your food, you must inform me. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“So, do you agree? Or will we visit the hospital wing?”

Harry gulped, “I agree, Professor.”

“Fine.” Snape turned and slammed the lid of the trunk closed. He pulled a face at the pile of dirty ‘bandages’ and banished them with a disdainful wave of his wand.

“I will have your trunk sent up to your dormitory and we will do some first aid on that wound tonight. I’m sure you will find some suitable excuse for your classmates?”

“I’ll think of something,” Harry nodded.

Snape led the way out of the hall, pausing only to vanish the table he had created. The Entrance Hall was silent by now, the girls must have gone to bed a while ago because the torches re-lit themselves as they made their way to the dungeon staircase.

Harry wasn’t sure what to think about the situation. It had been a very strange night. He would have thought that the last person he wanted to know about his arm was the dour potion’s master. But so far the man had been fairly understanding about it. That didn’t mean that the man wasn’t going to rat him out, but he hadn’t done so yet.

Harry was glad that something was going to happen with his arm, though. It had been worrying him for a while, especially since it took a couple of weeks to fully stop bleeding. And it had torn open a couple of times over the summer as well. It had opened right back up the night he had to drag Dudley back to Privet Drive after the dementor attack. He was very surprised that nobody had noticed it at Grimmauld Place, but Snape had said something about compulsions…

“Don’t dawdle, Potter,” Snape said, from half a flight further down the staircase.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, speeding up to catch the man as they made it to the dungeon corridor.

They walked in silence to the man’s office, where Snape unlocked the door with a tap of his wand.

“Enter,” He said, ushering Harry into the room before him. “Take a seat, Potter, I will be a few moments. Do not touch anything.”

Harry rolled his eyes, sitting back into the student seat, and drawing his robes closer against the cold of the dungeons.

Snape disappeared into a store cupboard which Harry thought connected through to the potion’s classroom.  There was a moment of silence, followed by the clinking of glass vials.

Harry’s gaze wandered the room, and he grimaced at the sight of the jars of pickled ingredients lining the walls. He thought that the man might just have them there to make the room more creepy. Maybe it was to discourage crying first years from going to the man for help with homesickness. Harry snorted.

“Here.”

Harry jumped out of his skin. Snape had appeared suddenly behind him and was holding out two vials. Harry blinked at the man for a second, before putting out his hand to take them both.

“Do not drink them!” Snape said sharply, as Harry began to raise one of them. The boy almost dropped it, before setting them both carefully doen on the desk in front of him.

“Those must be taken in the correct order. The blue first, will take away the ill-effects you are suffering from exposure to Pettigrew’s… body tissue. It will, however, cause a brief shock to your immune system. And I do mean actual shock. Any magical infection in the wound will spread very rapidly. Therefore, you must follow it immediately with the green, as this will return your system to normal, although you might have a slight remaining infection to deal with. Are you comfortable with this?”

“Yeah?” Harry looked dubiously at the blue potion. It seemed…metallic.

“Pull down your eyelids,” Snape said, sitting on the edge of his desk, so he was fairly close to Harry.

Harry blinked up at him, feeling a little stupid, but did as he was asked.

Snape nodded, pulling yet another vial out from his pocket “You are a little anaemic, so take this blood replenisher before the others.”

Harry pulled a face, he hated this potion. He took a deep breath, then downed it in one, gagging slightly at the taste.

“Don’t throw up,” Snape warned, holding the blue potion out to Harry.

This one was larger and took two large gulps. It didn’t taste so bad as the last, but he became more lightheaded than he had in months. He felt heat rush up from his chest to his head, and actually felt his heart beating against his ribs. His hands spasmed and he almost dropped the last potion. But Snape’s hand came up to support his, bringing the glass up to Harry’s lips, making him drink. Harry spluttered through it, but Snape didn’t let him move until the vial was empty.

Finally, Snape stepped away, taking all of the glasses with him. Harry bent over in his seat, breathing rapidly. He looked down at his arm reflexively. It seemed a little redder than it had before, but the area around the cuts had calmed down a lot. His headache had even disappeared. He looked up at his Professor, who was watching with some concern.

“How do you feel?”

“Fine?” Harry said, unsurely. He caught Snape’s incredulous look and spoke up quickly. “I mean, I’m dead tired, Sir. But I feel better than I have in weeks. And my arm is pretty good, it’s gone cold again.”

Snape nodded, “Good. Now, you do remember all of those conditions you agreed to?”

“…Yes.”

“When I tell you that you are required here, you will come. You will only take treatments of any kind which I have approved. And you will inform me of anything abnormal you may ingest. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Harry ground out. He had already told the man he understood that twice this evening.

“Good, see that it stays that way. I reserve the right to pass your care over to Madame Pomfrey, if at any time I deem it necessary.”

“Fine.” Harry had hoped that Snape would just be happy to leave it as it was. But the man had decided to turn into some kind of terms and conditions leaflet.

Snape raised an eyebrow, “I think I misheard you, Potter? Surely you said ‘thank you’?”

Harry ground his teeth together at that. Biting back the comment he had been about to make, he muttered something which might possibly be mistaken for thanks if the listener was in a generous mood.

Snape appeared to let it pass.

“It is much too late for me to teach you a glamour tonight, will you be able to wear long sleeves until before lunch tomorrow? I will assign you a detention, if you wish to learn the charm.”

Harry nodded slowly. “If I have my trunk back, it shouldn’t be a problem, Sir. I’ll tell the others I swore at you and that you confiscated some uh, prank sweets off of me?”

Snape nodded, “That should cover it. Incidentally, I will expect you to sit a detention for possessing the Weasley’s merchandise. Expect a late lunch.”

Snape smiled nastily, and strangely, it made Harry feel a little surer of himself. This was more like the Snape he knew. 

“I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower, to ensure you do not get lost on the way. You will need the password too, I suspect your prefects will have been chased to bed by Professor McGonagall, she is not fond of late nights.”

“She hardly ever comes into the common room.”

“She will have been there tonight.” Snape said. “She knows that there are students who would need to speak with her. There will no doubt be some Slytherins waiting to see me in the morning. And likely some parents too.”

“How would they know?” Harry asked. “They won’t have had a chance to send off an owl yet, will they? The owlery won’t be open.”

“They will have their ways, no doubt. You have your own way with that mirror of yours,” Snape pointed out. “Although, if you felt unable to tell your godfather about that arm in the two weeks you were in the same building, I doubt you will complain now. And do keep that mirror in a safe place, it would be unfortunate if the Fidelius failed because you left that mirror in the Common Room. Regardless, Professor McGonagall will inform your guardians of the searching process in the usual way.”

“I didn’t tell Sirius because he wouldn’t understand.” Harry said defensively. “He would have been nice about it, but he would have thought I should have been able to avoid getting that scar. And I’m not even sure that he knows it was Pettigrew who brought Him back, the last thing I want is for Sirius to go charging off after Wormtail again.”

“And your relatives?”

“Will be spitting mad that an owl shows up. They think that’s the second best thing about me being away at school.” Harry looked up at the Professor, who didn’t as the obvious question, since they both knew the answer already.

Snape looked around the room, checking that everything was set to rights. He put the pile of potions vials into a small basin by the sink and gestured for Harry to put his cloak back on. Then he left the office, Harry following behind him.

“You will no doubt be interested to know that Professor McGonagall always sends letters to your aunt in triplicate. I believe there was some issue with the delivery of your letters before you started school?”

Harry blinked, did they know about the address of his first letter? Harry had always assumed they had been sent automatically. “Do many letters get sent from Hogwarts, Sir? During term, I mean.”

Snape turned his head to consider Harry as they climbed a set of spiral stairs. “For you? Far less than there should have been, but far more than have ever been read. For example, unless you have informed them yourself, I doubt they were informed of your participation in the Triwizard Tournament.”

Harry laughed, “So they get told if I fly a car into a tree, but not if I have to compete in a tournament to the death?”

“Do try to avoid calling it that around the Hufflepuffs,” Snape said dryly, looking up at the grand staircase, shifting above their heads. He muttered something quietly, which Harry thought might have been in French.

“Potter, we are about to run into Madame Umbridge. Please do us both a favour and stay quiet.”

Harry’s head snapped up to look up the stairs, and his heart sank. He had yet to talk to the woman, but he could already tell that they weren’t going to get on. The toad-faced woman had sat in his trial and made constant remarks to the minister and the court which made Harry appear in a bad light. And that speech she had made this evening had been so sickly sweet. It reminded Harry of a substitute teacher at his primary school who came along and pretended to be friends, and then reported the whole class to the headteacher.

Umbridge was dressed the same as she had been for the feast – all in pink and with a great oversized bow perched on top of her head. She was standing in the middle of a flight of stairs, and Harry had the strange feeling that she had been waiting there for him. If she had been, she was incredibly tenacious, it must have been a good forty minutes since Snape had begun to search Harry’s trunk.

“Ah, Mr Potter, at last. And Professor Snape, isn’t it? You boys have been an awfully long time tonight.”

“Professor Umbridge, a goodnight to you.” Snape nodded at the woman, ignoring her comment and obviously trying to walk straight past her, with Harry at his heels.

“And what is it that took the two of you so long? Surely it cannot take so long to search just one students case?” Umbridge giggled girlishly. Snape came to a stop reluctantly

“Potter had some minor contraband in his possession. When I attempted to confiscate it, he made his disapproval very vocal.”

Umbridge peered down at Harry from three steps above him, and the boy tried to seem angry.

“And what was it you had with you, Mr Potter?”

Harry stayed silent as per his instructions. Snape jumped in again after a few seconds of silence.

“Only some joke sweets. He should have known not to bring them, but he is not the only one to do so this year.”

“But contraband is a very serious offence, Professor Snape. If you have any more issues with Mr Potter, I would be happy to take him for a set of detentions.” She offered, smiling. 

Harry watched as the corner of Snape’s mouth curled – a certain danger sign.

“Thank you, no. I believe I am quite capable of managing my own punishments. As Mr Potter will be reminded tomorrow morning.”

“Mr Potter is very quiet, does he have nothing to say for himself?”

Harry waited again, certain that Snape would say something if he was expected to talk.

“It appears he has decided to not make any more smart remarks this evening. Now, if you would excuse us, I will escort him up to Gryffindor Tower. It would be a shame if he slept through his first detention.”

Snape reached his arm out and grabbed Harry by the shoulder, leading him past Umbridge. Harry was surprised out of appearing contrite, and had to stumble up the stairs. Once he had regained his feet, he glanced back. Umbridge was still standing in the same place, watching them go with pursed lips.

Snape let Harry go fairly quickly, but didn’t say anything else until they were a corridor away from the common room.

“Please, do try to be careful around her. As Miss Granger has no doubt informed you, Professor Umbridge is the Ministry’s representative at Hogwarts. You would do well to keep yourself off her radar.”

Harry blinked at the muggle reference, and couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Professor McGonagall was able to convince her tonight that it would be inappropriate for her to search the cases of male students. Given what we have just seen, it is possible that she only wished to search your case. I would advise you to keep anything you do not wish to be found elsewhere. Perhaps invest in a mokeskin wallet?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, Sir. I can do that.”

“Good, but remember, if I find out you have been hiding anything from me, I am taking you straight to the hospital wing. And believe me, I will find out.”

Harry grimaced, “I know, Sir.”

“Good. Come to my office at 11 o’clock tomorrow, we will deal with you then.” Snape tapped his wand on the Portrait of the Fat Lady to get her attention.

“Oh, Severus,” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “It’s so late.”

“Madame,” Snape did what might be described as half a bow. “I am returning Mr Potter to you for the night. You are aware that the Weasleys will not be returning this evening?”

“Those boys,” She sighed. “Always out all hours. Yes, the Elves did mention something like that.”

Snape smiled sympathetically. “The password is Mimbulus Mimbletonia. I am sure Longbottom will be delighted.”

The portrait swung open, revealing the common room behind. Harry found himself glancing back many times as he made his way into the room. He watched Snape with a slight frown even as the portrait swung shut. Then he shook his head to clear his thoughts, and made his way through the dim room to the staircase.

Harry opened the door to his new dorm as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake up anyone who was already asleep. He noticed that the fifth year boy’s dorm was low down in the tower, and so was a little more spacious than last year. His bed was in the same spot as it usually was, with a larger desk between his bed and Ron’s.

Harry noticed that all of the other curtains were tightly closed, apart from his empty bed, and the slightly ajar ones which was emitting the sounds of Neville’s snores. Happy with this, Harry opened up his trunk and sorted through the neater pile inside until he found a hoodie and some pyjamas that he could wear to bed- even though it was hot enough, he needed the long sleeves.

Within ten minutes, Harry had settled into bed, and shut off the last of the lanterns. He set his wand on the cabinet next to his bed and sighed contentedly. It might not have been the quietest first night back, but he was happy to be home.