~~~~HP~~~~

Friday 3rd, October 1997

The sound erupting during breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning, specifically when Dumbledore confirmed the Slytherin Dungeon had flooded from the windows breaking, was so deafening Harry found himself having to cover his ears from the commotion. Peering around the room, he realized that with classes cancelled yesterday the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws probably wouldn't have found out the details from anywhere else. The Gryffindors only knew, of course, because of Harry's retelling of his own experience during it. Continuing to roam over his frantic classmates, his eyes landed on the Slytherin table barely half full. With Snape being discharged from the hospital wing that morning, he hoped it meant most of the others would be coming back too, because their missing presence - along with the camp beds Harry saw last night set up in that very room - made it obvious things had gone terribly wrong in the school. And no matter how bad Harry felt about thinking it, he found himself grateful that at least this hadn't been targeted at him.

Overall, the consensus among the students was wary at best. This morning, once news of a potential attack at the school reached the non-Slytherin parents, more owls than Harry ever seen at one time flooded the Great Hall for mail call from worried parents wanting to make sure their children were safe. As with any other year when tragedy struck at Hogwarts, Harry didn't look out for Hedwig, but this time rather than feeling bad about it he smiled knowing his lack of mail was because the adults looking out for him were already there, not because they wanted to hear of his ultimate demise. Turning towards the professors' table, his smile faded at the sight of McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick missing; the former and latter having been assigned to help with Dungeon cleanup. With any luck, Snape's quarters would be repaired early on so he could at least go down there to get his school bag - left on the top of the desk, hopefully unharmed.

As Snape hinted when Harry visited him last night, Dumbledore also announced classes being cancelled for the day. Although unlike yesterday, where the students were advised to stay close to their Common Room, they were given free reign in the castle as if it were a Saturday, so long as they stayed away from the Dungeons and out of the aurors' way.

"Anyone interested in trials next week, extra Quidditch practice after lunch!" Ron announced down the table, food practically flying from his mouth in the process. "Hey, d'you think the Slytherins will still have their Trials on Sunday?"

"Doubtful," Harry told him. "When I visited Severus last night-" he tried to ignore Codde's smirk at the professor's given name, "- I'd say about a third of the students were still there. I don't think Madam Pomfrey will clear any of them to fly anytime soon."

"But most are first and second years, right?" Ginny asked. "I know they can play, but generally speaking Slytherin doesn't usually have younger years on their team."

Harry tuned out the talk of swapping trial weekends - something he'd be in full support of since he doubted Snape would come around on letting him change next Saturday's chemo - and focused his attention back towards the half full Slytherin table on the other side of the Great Hall. Harry noticed most of those accounted for were the older years; Goyle and Draco the only notable exceptions. He'd heard Goyle ended up in the Black Lake from the outgoing current and had been brought to safety from the Giant Squid - of all things - and like Snape, Draco had stayed another night due to his concussion, having been in the Common Room with Hala when the windows broke. The rumors of the first year seer's knowledge of the event spread like wildfire across the table because apparently people had overheard her boasting to Draco about being a strong swimmer that night at dinner.

"Earth to Harry," Ron's voice brought him back to his friends around him. "You up for some Quidditch?"

"I'll come watch, but I can't play," Harry told them, regretfully, "I can only imagine what would happen if I were to fall off my broom."

Ron frowned, disappointed his friend couldn't play in the last year they'd get the chance to. "Promise to gimme some advice on who to watch out for when trials come around?"

Harry smiled, "You bet. I'll keep a close eye on them."

"Do you think the aurors will come around questioning all of us?" The random question, of course, came from Lavender, as she clung to a letter - presumably from her parents - in her left hand. Her brown eyes widened as she declared, "What if someone's out for the whole school? Think about it, this week it's the Slytherins flooding, and next week the Hufflepuff Common Room caves in?!"

"Ded yer parents poeht dat idea in yer 'ead?" Seamus asked, pointing to the parchment.

"Mhmmm," she nodded, her forehead crinkled with worry, "but they can't be too far off, can they? What if the Tower crumbles? I doubt anyone could save us from falling to our deaths while we sleep."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Harry lifted his hands to try to calm her hysterical imagination down. "First of all, I'm pretty sure the Tower isn't being held up by enchantments..." Harry trailed off as his mind brought up the pictures he saw at the DMLE for his memory extraction of chimneys crumbled in the Diagon Alley attack. Those had been held up by all sorts of enchantments and they'd been stripped not unlike the Slytherin windows. It seemed too coincidental for his liking.

"You alright, Harry?" Hermione softly asked from across the table. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he gave his head a small shake, and her eyebrows raised slightly in a silent agreement to talk about it in lesser company. "Erm… and anyway, I'm sure after this, and all the parent complaints, Dumbledore will make sure the wards on the school are maintained, so nothing like this happens again."

Based on the snippets of the conversations around him, the other students had a lot of the same fears. Perhaps not growing up with parents - without someone to constantly worry about his well being - had made him less paranoid over things like this. At the same time, he couldn't exactly say he fully trusted Dumbledore either; not after what he, personally, had gone through under his care. It didn't bother him, it only meant he had to continue to look out for himself. Admittedly, the idea of the Tower falling down had never come to mind.

"Harry," Parvati called to him, "or Hermione… do either if you know what's going to happen to the Slytherins? Surely they're going to be out of their house for a while."

Harry swallowed the bite of porridge he'd just taken, then said, "According to Severus, it'll take about two weeks to get the renovations done in order for it to be liveable again. They can't start until the aurors finish their investigation, and then they have to work around the professors' schedule to get help. I tried to convince him that it'd be worth cancelling classes so they could focus on the repairs, but he didn't go for it."

"That's awful, Harry!" Hermione admonished him. He winced expecting her to give him her typical hit, but it never came. "Can you imagine how far behind we'd be if we took off a whole week, on top of yesterday and today? Some of us still have to take our N.E.W.T.s-" she slapped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she said, "-I'm so sorry, Harry! I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Harry reassured her, "I've come to terms with not finishing school anytime in the near future."

"So, what'll you do?" The question came from Dennis Creevey further down the table. "Maybe go to a muggle uni?"

"I really haven't thought too much about it," the raven-haired Gryffindor shrugged. "There's still so much I don't know about my options without finishing here first. I'd be interested in a uni, but without finishing muggle school, I don't know if I could."

"Draco's going to uni," Hermione announced and looked around nervously at the stares she received from the table. Frowning, she sheepishly added,"Though I'm not sure it necessarily applies to your situation. I'm sure you need a program with flexibility…"

Hermione continued to rattle on nervously about what she knew of the muggle schools as if Harry didn't grow up in the muggle world. Luckily, those who did grow up in magical households wanted to hear all about it and asked enough questions to keep her occupied and draw the attention away from his own clueless idea on his future. He'd be happy with just being able to put chemotherapy and Leukemia behind him, but it begged the question: what would he do with his life while he waited for it all to end?

~~~~SS~~~~

Sleeping in the hospital wing had always been challenging, even under the best of circumstances, but being surrounded by his students - separated by partitions didn't make a single damn difference - made for an exceedingly restless night and a grumpy Severus Snape on Friday. The very first thing the professor did after being discharged from Poppy's care was check on the students still left in the hospital wing and St Mungo's to get a good picture of the amount of injuries he'd be dealing with. Those with concussions, like himself, were expected to be released throughout the day, so long as they passed the series of tests Poppy's would run to determine when they were considered out of danger enough to be released. Outside of those at St Mungo's, he should have most of his students return by the end of the night.

It would give him two days to get things settled before classes started again on Monday. Per his request, his own quarters were at the bottom of the priority list to get repaired - so long as he could get into them this afternoon to secure some belongings to move into the guest quarters, his second stop after leaving the hospital wing - and therefore most of the focus would be on the students dorms while the investigation on the windows continued. His first stop of the day? The headmaster's office to discuss where his students would be living during the estimated two week renovations. Under no circumstances would he allow them to keep residence in the Great Hall for a fortnight. From there he'd go to his quarters and collect some belongings and, with any luck, he'd be able to slip back to Spinner's End to accept Mae's date request and start his research on time lapsed spells. If there was any connection between what happened to his students and the Diagon Alley or Godric's Hollow attack, he'd do anything he could to find it.

"Chocolate frogs," Severus growled to the gargoyle guarding Albus's steps.

The last time Severus had visited the office had been for Draco's second drop-in visit almost two Mondays ago. While that particular one had been a calmer affair - a combination of knowing what to expect and having so few spells cast first thing in the morning - he still felt the sting of the early morning visit. How could so much happen in only a month of school with Voldemort now dead? Until Harry's arrival at the school seven years ago, they would go years without any one of the issues they've already had thus far, let alone all of them. But the things happening this year really had nothing to do with Harry. What were the odds?

"Come in, Severus," Albus announced a second prior to the professor's knock. Upon entering, Severus paused at the doorway when he saw the headmaster was not alone. Lucius Malfoy stoically sat in the tall back chair across from Albus's desk, dressed in his usual haughty custom robes: a dark charcoal gray with black embellishments, a stark contrast to the headmaster's bright golden robes. "Impeccable timing, we were just talking about you."

Severus narrowed his dark eyes over the room, not at all wanting to hear he'd been discussed prior to his arrival.

"Seems you've got yourself a bit of mess, Severus," the Malfoy patriarch greeted him. If the past six months between them hadn't occurred, Severus would have taken offense, rather than brush off the pointed statement. "Shall I assume you won't be coming into the laboratory tomorrow?"

Giving Albus a small nod, he answered, "As long as things here are underway and can be handled without my presence, my intention is to be there in the morning, as usual."

Albus clapped his hands together, then gestured for Severus to take the seat next to Lucius, "Then you've arrived at a perfect time, my boy-" Severus grimaced at the usage of the endearing title, "-Lucius has graciously offered to supply a team for the renovations. It would allow our professors to stay focused on teaching, as well as provide around the clock work to cut the time in half."

Outwardly, Severus didn't react - a skill well honed throughout his life - but inwardly he asked a million questions. The first being: will this team be safe? He quickly answered it as "yes". Although the reputation of Slytherin parents painted a picture of neglectful parents who left their children to be raised by nannies and house elves was true, the other side of the picture would show overly cautious parents who would do anything to protect their heirs; in many instances, the sole heirs to very wealthy, old Pureblood families. Therefore, he found himself not all concerned about the potential agenda of the wizards brought in. They would likely be scrutinized under a higher level than anyone the Board of Governors would find.

Severus's main concern fell on the opposite side of the spectrum, wondering what would be reported back to Lucius as a point of contention. The very last thing they needed was to have the patriarch come in demanding changes to be made to either the structures or the wards. Regardless of where the blonde's loyalties lay, a private citizen could not make decisions for the school based on his son's best interest in his final year.

"How very… generous of you, Lucius," Severus said. "Do we know when the investigation will be wrapped up enough for us to get started?"

"By tomorrow we should have access to everything outside of the area directly in front of the windows. The area will be warded off to allow the crew to come in and work," Albus answered and Severus nodded. "Today we'll be able to start in the dormitories and Draco's room, with the expectation of getting the students back into their beds by Monday night."

Less than ideal - he'd hoped to have them back to their dorms by Sunday in order to give them a normal day of classes - but he couldn't complain because it was better than the original estimate of mid- to late-week. The trio went through the schedule of what to expect from the aurors as well as a detailed explanation of the Malfoy restoration crew. The fact the other Slytherin had a crew to work on the repairs was cause for concern, but either way the school needed the help and Albus assured him - with Lucius's agreement - they would be monitored at all times. Not being required to assist on the Slytherin dorms gave Severus the time to focus on his own quarters and seeing to their repair.

"Have you seen Draco this morning?" Severus asked the blonde, unable to recall hearing his distinctive voice from around the partitions. "I believe he'll be discharged from the hospital wing later this afternoon. We've made arrangements for another set of private quarters to be placed near the Great Hall. I hope that suffices your requirement for his safety?"

"That's satisfactory to hear on both accounts," Lucius slyly said. "As long as Draco's comfortable with the arrangements, I'll hold back my requirement to bring him home. It was my intention to stop by the hospital wing on my way out and if he's well we will have a look at the room."

"By all means," Albus practically jumped up from behind his desk, and the pair of younger wizards mirrored his posture by standing, "I shall not wish to keep you from your son a moment longer. Mr Filch will see that your crew has access to the dormitories today and will be responsible for overseeing their progress. If you have any concerns, please do bring them to my attention."

The dismissal couldn't be anymore obvious and Albus had to know Lucius would see straight through it. Wondering about the headmaster's ultimate agenda, he had mindlessly gone to follow Lucius when Albus asked him to stay.

"The best you can give my Dungeons is Filch's supervision?" Severus sarcastically lectured when the two professors were alone. "The idiot couldn't tell a nefarious spell from an innocuous one to save his life."

"He's loyal to the castle, Severus," the older wizard cryptically said, "and to me. He may not know the front from the back end of a wand, but he'll question every stone touched and won't let them get away with anything that shouldn't be done."

He wasn't ready to concede that easily and made a mental note to check in on the progress from time to time.

"Now," the headmaster continued, taking his seat once again behind his desk, "I have the official reports from St Mungo's and Poppy. Do you have time to discuss them?"

Retaking his seat, Severus gestured for the man to continue, anxious to hear how his students were faring and to prepare himself for the inevitable attack coming his way from their parents.

In the end, Severus learned roughly half of his Slytherins were considered fully healed and outside of any emotional reactions - the former Death Eater baulked at Albus's choice of phrasing - to the event, they would be fine and expected to return to classes on Monday. Out of the other half, those who ended up in the Black Lake, outside of Goyle who'd been rescued first and returned that morning, would be staying at St Mungo's to monitor their condition until further notice and all listed as contingent to return Monday depending on their status over the weekend. All in all, Severus counted every lucky star out there that there had been no fatalities and a couple missing days of classes was his biggest worry.

When visiting his quarters for the first time to pack a bag of his belongings and floo to Spinner's End, he tried hard not to let his anger and disappointment in Harry fuel him. Had the teen stayed put, as Severus had demanded of him, the enchantments on the door would have held together during the worst of the flooding and his child would not have ended up hurt at all. Not being completely sealed, the water would have continued to work its way in from every crevice around the door, but it would not have broken it down. Harry would have been safe. Instead, he comes to find out that the idiotic child opened the damn door, got pummeled by a wall of water and then left to go and help. He'd never understand Gryffindors and their need for senseless heroic acts. Had his Slytherins attempted that from their dormitories, they would have been killed - before making it up to the Common Room, and therefore their sense of self-preservation literally saves their lives.

As expected, anything roughly waist height and lower had been damaged by the flooding. It could all be fixed, of course, but it didn't stop the stress induced from the sight of his still soaked furniture and slick, soggy floor from creeping in on him. How could it be possible for him to have more going on this year than any other? And now in the last two days, he added repairing his quarters, researching if spells could be time-lapsed, the idea of a potential attack on his house, and Harry's current situation with the rumors regarding their relationship to the already heap of responsibility sitting on his shoulders. The latter he knew he couldn't do much about, yet he still found his mind constantly chewing for some kind of action to take. For now, he'd have to settle on focusing his effort into what he could do and it was getting to Spinner's End to find a book specifically on dark charms he knew he had there. If he managed to confirm Voldemort's soul piece living in Harry, he could find out what had caused the enchantments on the windows to essentially dissolve.

Arriving into his and Harry's home through the floor left him feeling defeated. Not for the first time, Severus questioned if he shouldn't take Harry out of school and return home. He could work at the lab full-time and, most importantly, Harry would be safe. Working his way through his bookcase, he questioned the validity of his assumption. Outside of his sleeping lately, since returning to Hogwarts, Harry had been feeling the best he'd ever been - possibly in his life, at least in this reality - and taking him away from that would only do more harm than good. No, he needed to stay put for both Harry's sake and his students and find a way to work through all of his challenges.

It took Severus a whole five minutes of fake looking for the book and contemplating the situation with Harry before he determined he needed a distraction. Sitting in his armchair, feeling the emptiness of the house around him, the professor summoned a bottle of red wine from the kitchen and conjured a wine glass. Three sips later, he picked up the phone - holding back a smirk as the phrase "trealy-frone" crossed his mind in Arthur's voice - and dialed Mae's phone number; one he knew from memory by now.

"Hey there," Mae said after only two rings, making Severus question to himself how she knew it would be him on the other end. He was tempted to hang up to make a point, but his brain was far too hazy to play mind games.

"How did you know it'd be me?" He went with instead.

She laughed. "Well, I have this cute little box attached to my phone that tells me the number dialing in. It's practically magic, you should get one. Maybe then you'd answer your phone when it rings."

Rolling his eyes, knowing the gesture was lost on her, he replied, "I'll keep that in mind."

"You sound exhausted for not even being dinner time on a Friday night," she told him, but in a more concerning way than she'd ever used before. "And aren't you usually teaching right around now?"

"That's because it's been a difficult couple of days," Severus said and thought through what she could know, "We had quite a large… flood in the dorms I oversee. My students have all been displaced, several still injured, and needless to say, it's been a complete mess."

"I'm so sorry, Severus," she sighed, "I swear I have some of the worst timing on things. Was that Harry's dormitory?"

He couldn't help smiling as he thought of her face blushing from her embarrassment over what started as teasing and ended up concerning.

"Thankfully no, he's in a different dormitory," Severus chuckled. "I don't particularly care to know what he and housemates do at any given moment. I leave that up to my colleague."

"It's probably for the best," she laughed. "Are you alright?"

Clearly out of sorts from his head injury, Severus paused long enough not to be able to pull off a lie, so he went with a partial one, "I slipped on the wet floor and ended up in our infirmary, but I'll be fine."

"Well now I feel like a total arse," she said. "Listen, if you need to rest this weekend, we can reschedule-"

"I guarantee you," Severus cut her off, not liking where she was headed, "if I'm still resting all the way until Sunday, I'll probably murder someone."

"Why do I get the feeling you're not exaggerating on that one?" she joked. "I bet you make an awful patient."

"You have absolutely no idea," he replied, resting his head on the palm of his propped up arm.

They made arrangements to meet at her flat in Guildford at one o'clock Sunday afternoon, then Mae went on to tell him all about her week, specifically the new practitioner at the clinic she immediately did not get along with. Somehow Severus ended up retelling the story - without the fact that this all happened in a castle hundreds of kilometers away because magical enchantments on the windows broke, of course - of the flood and his week with Harry. The more he talked, the better he felt and Severus found himself even explaining Harry's recent attitude and his lack of sleeping. Mae listened, not jumping in with advice regarding his care of the young wizard, which he appreciated more than he could tell her.

When Severus finally hung up with Mae, he hadn't realized how much of the time had gotten away from him during the call. With the dinner hour right around the corner, he resumed his search for the text, finding it and two others he thought would be useful in his quest. Just as he was getting ready to floo back to his quarters - to pack his bag and hopefully settle into the guest rooms for the night - an interesting title caught his eye: The Subtle Art of Becoming an Animagus . With his brain still fuzzy from the concussion, he couldn't exactly recall a reason why he was drawn to the text, but he added it to his pile just in case. Perhaps he thought Harry's lack of sleep was caused by the Gryffindor's anxiety over trying not to swallow a mandrake leaf. If that ended up the case, and Harry was trying to become an Animagus on his own, the child would have a lot more to worry about than some rumors from a third year Ravenclaw.

~~~~HP~~~~

Every cell in Harry's body wanted to play Quidditch as he watched his housemates fly across the pitch. His still sore and bruised side served him well as a constant reminder to why getting on a broom would be an unbelievably bad idea, so whenever he found himself desperately wanting to join in, he gave himself a small poke. Snape would probably have an issue with this method, but he'd have a bigger fit seeing Harry on a broom. He sat in the stands wrapped tightly in his yellow blanket with Hermione sitting on his right and Dudley on his left, quizzing the Gryffindor witch on Defense; her class should have had a quiz that afternoon and she'd been determined not to waste the extra study time.

Now that Harry had his old essays to work from - a fact he was not about to share with Hermione - he found he didn't worry as much about the day to day schoolwork. Unfortunately, that meant his mind had more capacity to go through all the other things he didn't want to think about like the flood, Snape, Ackerly, and Draco. And although watching Quidditch helped to keep his thoughts from wandering back to any of the taboo topics, Harry found it also distracted him away from Hermione's study guide. The witch had already had to grab him attention away at least a dozen times.

"You miss it, don't you?" Dudley asked when Hermione had to remind Harry yet again to pay attention to her questions. At Harry's confused expression, Dudley clarified, "Quidditch?"

"Oh. Yeah," Harry confirmed, wrapping his blanket a little tighter around himself more for protection from the personal question than the cold. "This would have been my last year, and I dunno when I'll actually get to fly again, let alone play Quidditch. The crazy thing is, I haven't actually gotten to play since third year."

"It's hitting Draco hard too this year," Hermione sadly told the boys. Harry wasn't sure if Dudley knew they'd made amends, yet he didn't question Hermione's statement.

Harry frowned, "Why isn't he playing?"

Uncharacteristically, Hermione shrugged. "We didn't really talk about it," she told him. "After… you both were captured last year, his prefect duties went to Blaise and Harper took the seeker position. Since Blaise kept the prefect status, I think he naturally assumed Harper would get his old position."

"Serves him right," a voice called out from the stands behind them. Harry turned and saw Colin Creevey sitting huddled up looking almost as cold as Harry felt, surrounded by a bunch of fifth and sixth years, some of which Harry knew from his Herbology and Potions classes.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Harry said, starting to feel like a broken record. No one understood half the things he - and Draco, Hermione, and Snape - had to deal with lately and he was tired of everyone putting their noses in where they didn't belong.

"We all know he didn't get captured," one of the fifth years spoke up. "He kidnapped you and walked himself right into the situation. I don't see how you can defend someone like that."

Harry may have only recently buried the wand, so to say, with the Slytherin, but he'd come to terms with his kidnapping - and Draco's role in it - back at the Celestial Room. He was also tired of all the fighting and all the negative energy spent between the students: him and Ackerly, the Gryffindors and the Slytherins, Draco and practically the rest of the school for one reason or another. Someone had to stop the cycle and with all Harry's own negativity lately, it seemed like whether he wanted to or not, it would be him, then and there.

"You have something to say about it?" Harry challenged, ready to fight whichever way the group would go. "Well don't be shy then, go ahead and tell me what you know about it all."

Standing up - Dudley and Hermione mirroring his actions - Harry turned so he was facing the other Gryffindors. Suddenly, none of the wizards who'd been taunting them wanted to volunteer their side of the story.

"If you think you have this all figured out," Harry continued, on a roll and unable to stop himself, "let me ask you this. What would you do in his situation? Tell me Colin, what if Dennis's life had been threatened if you didn't manage to bring me in? You're telling me you'd exchange your little brother's life for mine? I'd be flattered, really, but don't think for a second I'd believe you."

Colin looked over to Dennis sitting down beside him and Harry knew he finally had their attention. The older Gryffindor brother had worshipped Harry since his arrival at the school, yet at the same time, he would do anything for his younger brother and based on his clenched jaw, he was upset about being caught in the cross hairs.

"But Malfoy doesn't have any siblings," the other fifth year accused. "He doesn't care about-"

"He has Hermione!" Harry yelled, not giving a damn who heard him, and pointed his hand at her, "who just so happens to be my best friend, and you can bet that had I known she'd been threatened, I'd have walked my arse up to the gates at Malfoy Manor myself! Do you really think I would let anyone be killed in my place?!"

"Harry," Hermione tugged on his elbow, looking around at the crowd that had gathered not only around the stands, but the Quidditch players in the air flew over, and the students on the ground did as well. "Leave it be."

"No!" Harry pulled his arm out of her grasp, "You all think it's so easy, right? To do the 'right thing'-" the last two words were emphasized with air quotes. "Well let me tell you, until you've been in the situation… until you're faced with the impossible choice of betraying a friend and an ally or letting your girlfriend get murdered…" he shook his head and with a face filled with disgust, he spat out, "you know what? I hope you're never in that position. I hope you don't ever have to put a place value on one person's life over another because there's really not a right or a wrong way to handle it. I really don't give a damn what you all think happened that night because I know what did and I'm damn proud Draco was brave enough to put my best friend's life first."

Panting from the combination of his small diatribe and getting so worked up, Harry looked around at the crowd he'd managed to gather around him. The air was charged with the energy of his words, and so silent not even the birds were chirping their happy late afternoon tunes, leaving only his heavy breathing to fill in the space. Harry felt sick to his stomach that for the second time in as many days, he'd had to fight within his own house. Colin and Dennis Creevey refused to make eye contact with him, and he felt Hermione's arm snake it's way around his shoulders to help guide him from the stands and back into the castle. Before they left though, Harry's eyes locked with a set of grey ones on the ground next to the Quidditch stands. Harry wanted to apologize to the Slytherin for having lost his own courage over the summer and not doing what should have been done when the slander first started. He still had a long way to go, but the first step was the hardest - or at least that's what Dr Snyder always told him - and he vowed to refuse to allow people to walk over him and his friends any longer. Whether he liked it or not, being the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice made him influential and his voice or lack of voice on any given matter meant something to others. He'd just have to make sure that going forward he didn't forget about it, and to stand up for what - and whom - he believed in.

"C'mon guys," Harry said to Hermione and Dudley, "let's get ready for dinner."

When he turned around to head down the stands, Harry startled at the sight in front of him. Ron, Dean, and Ginny, all hoovered on their brooms nodding their heads or clapping in full support of Harry, Hermione, and by extension, Draco. Ron's blue eyes held a fire in them and when he silently mouthed, "later," Harry knew he wouldn't get out of sharing the details with the other third of their trio, unsure why it had taken this long to be honest with him.

It turned out, later meant over dinner and not in the privacy of their dorm as Harry would have assumed. Harry, Hermione, and Dudley all walked as briskly as the Gryffindor could back up to the castle in silence in order to get ready for dinner. Allowing his anger over Draco's situation, as a perfectly reasonable excuse not to deal with any of his own issues, to take over, he managed to ignore every stare, whisper, and point along the way until he made it back to his dorm for a long hot shower - the only way he could successfully rid the cold from his bones - then off to the Great Hall alone; the Quidditch crew still getting ready themselves and Hermione likely off with her boyfriend after the afternoon's mess.

"Why didn't you tell me, mate?" Ron's loud semi-accusatory voice coming up behind him caused Harry to jump right as the redhead sat down next to him. Harry squinted at his friend trying to make sense of his question. "About Hermione," Ron added.

"Oh," Harry's voice dropped with his head as he thought about how to answer it. "I guess I figured you already knew?" It definitely came out more as a question than a confident statement. Why hadn't they talked about it until now? In finding the answer to that question, Harry said, "And I didn't think it was my place to tell. I don't know what happened while we were… there for those weeks. And honestly, I just wanted to put it all behind me, to forget it all."

"We were scared out of our minds," Ron filled his plate to the brim with lamb chops, bread, boiled potatoes, and root vegetables, Harry feeling physically sick at the amount of food the other wizard could pack away. "No one would tell us anything outside of you being kidnapped and that they - the Order - were doing everything to get you back. Nott... this was before he got arrested for the Quidditch attack kept running his mouth about Draco being the one to get to you. We were all angry."

"At Draco?" Harry logically asked, peering around the Hall looking for the blonde.

"At everything, really," Ron gave a sad laugh, and Harry noticed everyone around nodding their heads, "at Draco for seemingly betraying you, at the Slytherins for gloating about it every chance they got, that we couldn't get any information from anyone, that they expected us all to just go about life as normal. It was bad.

"And then when we find out you're safe… or at least not completely dead… we find out that Draco had been held captive too, when most of the time we assumed he'd been protected there, and that was confusing-"

"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry felt bad interrupting, but he didn't need the running tally of every way he worried his friends. "I should've said something before now."

"So what did happen?" The question came from Neville across the table from him.

Harry took a deep breath and released it slowly as he mentally prepared himself for the conversation he should have had when he'd been first rescued back in May. "There's not much to tell. After Snape was captured, Voldemort found out Draco was a spy for the Order and placed a surveillance charm on him with orders to kidnap me or Hermione would be given to Greyback, then killed."

The Gryffindors around him all started talking over one another, asking him questions about everything from his capture and Draco's involvement, to Death Eaters in general. There wasn't a single Gryffindor Hermione hadn't helped in some way over their years at Hogwarts and finding out about the threat over her life hit them as hard as it had Harry. He spent most of the chaotic time calming Ron down, who had taken the news the hardest; shifting between overly worried about Hermione's well-being, angry with Harry for withholding the information to begin with, and coming to terms with his acceptance over Draco ultimately doing what either of them would've done too.

When the loud conversations around him abruptly stopped, the instant silence almost hurt his ears. Looking at his housemates for the source of their change of behavior, he followed their gaze behind him to where Hermione stood holding Draco's hand. The blond Slytherin didn't have his usual sneer, even though it had long lost any of its animosity towards the Lions, but he still stood proud as he waited with his girlfriend.

In a silent understanding, Harry leaned over to Neville and Seamus - sitting on the other side of Ron and Lavender - and waving his hand he told them, "Move down and make some room, guys."

At first, he could tell they were unsure if they wanted to let Draco sit with them, and by this point most of the Great Hall had quieted down watching the public acceptance or denial of the Slytherin Prince joining the Gryffindor Princess for dinner. Eventually, they beckoned down the bench for everyone to move over until two spots were created to Harry's right: Hermione taking the one directly next to him and Draco beside her. And then, as if nothing of significance had just occurred, the group went right back to their normal, loud, and boisterous conversations on everything from the Quidditch trials next week, to the first Hogsmeade weekend at the end of the month, and the upcoming midterm exams.

"Hey Potter," the Malfoy heir called, leaning around Hermione's back as she was deep in a conversation with Parvati about their upcoming duel on Wednesday. Leaning back, matching Draco's posture, Harry raised his eyebrows silently asking the Slytherin to continue, "Maybe I won't have to punch you after all."

"You're very welcome, Malfoy," Harry arrogantly replied, feeling content with the last piece of his summer anxieties having finally settled and melted away; just in time for another to start when the Daily Prophet delivered another rare evening edition.

"How can you be so calm when everyone in the wizarding world saw this tonight?!"

Harry hadn't meant for the statement to come out so angry, but something about Snape's nonchalant attitude over the entire thing frustrated him beyond belief. To help make his point, he slammed down the Daily Prophet onto the kitchen table of Snape's guest quarters with the headline:

Students Attacked at Hogwarts -
Aurors Suspect Head of House.

Though Snape's name - or any of the Houses at Hogwarts - wasn't specifically mentioned in the article, sitting in the Great Hall after the Slytherin Common Room almost fatally flooded didn't take much imagination to connect the dots. The professor, though, simply went back to eating his meal, his head merely giving a small shake of disappointment, as murmurings circulated through the tables. When he'd apparently deemed it an appropriate amount of time - much longer than Harry would have waited - to stand his ground in the Great Hall, Snape slowly made his way out with no more sense of urgency than if he'd read to expect rain tomorrow. Bothered by the article, its insinuations, and Snape's laissez faire reaction to it, Harry jumped up from his seat beside Hermione - uttered a rushed "see ya guys in the Tower" - and followed Snape all the way to his guest quarters; not caring one bit what the rest of the student body would think.

"For one," Snape calmly said, tossing the paper back across the table, "I am the adult and you are the child. Therefore, it is not your responsibility - no matter how misguided your thoughts on the subject may have been in the past - to worry or fix my problem.

"Secondly, do not make the assumption that because I do not stand up and throw a fit, does not mean I am - in your words - 'being calm' about the situation. In contrast, I am intricately aware of how much damage an accusation such as this could bring across the many aspects of my life and career. I do not, however, recall reading anything in the article even remotely official stating the aurors were looking towards me… or any of the other Heads of House -" Harry rolled his eyes, as if they'd be accusing Professor Sprout of plotting to kill the Slytherins, "- and I do hold some sort of belief in the magical world as a whole to be able to absolve my suspected guilt during the aurors' investigation because I am not guilty of what they are supposedly accusing me."

Harry sat back in his chair with his arms tightly crossed across his chest and a voice barely audible, he challenged, "Because they've never falsely accused someone before and sent him to Azkaban for twelve years?"

At first, the professor didn't react; something that would have made Harry feel more comfortable than the heavy silence between them. Eventually, and without so much as glare, Snape raised his wand - causing the young wizard to instinctively flinch - and levitated a kettle, cups, and tea, over to the table. In silence, Harry watched the professor spoon out the loose tea into the kettle, then magically fill it with water, heat it up, and pour the steaming liquid into the waiting cups. He nudged one of them across to the table to Harry, who instantly recognized the chamomile scent and slowly took a sip from his own.

When Snape placed his own tea cup back down on the table, in a much calmer voice than Harry would have expected, he said, "My situation is in no way comparable to that of your godfather's. No one dying is obviously a good start, and I certainly am not taking pleasure over the events - or at least appearing to do so. But the biggest difference, one you should pay the most attention to, is that the aurors are investigating the potential crime, something that did not happen after those muggle deaths, mostly likely due to Minister Bagnold's desire to put as much of Voldemort and his reign of terror behind them."

Harry fiddled with his tea cup; rotating it slowly in hands and watching the ripples glide across the golden liquid within, unsure how to respond to the declaration. Feeling Snape's eyes still staring at the top of his head, he lifted his eyes to meet his mentor's onyx one.

"I didn't mean…" Harry started, but stopped, clenching his jaw tight as he composed his next words. "It's not fair that they get to get away with writing whatever the hell they want-"

"-watch the language."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "How can you expect me to just sit here and do nothing? Doesn't it bother you?"

"Yes, Harry, it does bother me and I will handle it in a way I deem appropriate." Snape paused and shook his head, "You cannot go through life thinking you are responsible to right every single wrong in the world. Not only is it a losing battle, it's one that will absolutely drain you in the end."

Harry half expected to hear the other wizard mention something about idiotic Gryffindors, but it never came. They'd come so far from those days, each wizard able to finally see the benefits to the other's side.

"Ok," Harry eventually conceded, not happy to drop it, but willing to try. "Can you at least tell me what happened with the aurors? Why do they think you did this?"

The dark eyes watching him cautiously from across the table squinted in a half grimace. He could see Snape's internal struggle over what - and how much - to tell him, but sighed in relief when the Slytherin began to speak.

"As everyone already knows, and yet has only now somehow managed to draw unwanted attention," he said, pinching his eyes closed momentarily, and when he looked back up they held more confusion than Harry ever remembered seeing, "I required all of my students to be in the common room prior to curfew. I'm not even sure what the official hour should have been, or if they realistically followed the damn rule every week-" he pointed at Harry to stop his anticipated interruption, "- I am the adult, remember?"

"So how will they know you're innocent?" The simple question sounded more juvenile by his voice cracking on the last word.

Snape's furrowed brow didn't help ease his mind in the slightest, "They've inspected my wand, taken my statement and corroborated my alibi between you and Kingsley, and I'll be available to them should they have any follow up inquiries… unfortunately, at this point, we can't do much else outside of waiting for the DMLE to complete their part."

It made sense to Harry, and at the same time, too coincidental for the aurors to be realistically pursuing Snape with anything more than questioning him; which they already did yesterday. So what if he told them all to be in the common room at a certain time? Weren't they all told the same thing when they attended classes everyday? What about when he had chemotherapy every month? Given the right resources and time, almost anyone could know he was expected at the clinic in Guildford next Saturday morning. Suddenly, he didn't feel so comfortable with the arrangement given the Death Eaters responsible for the Godric's Hollow attack were still out there and they still had no clue about who - or what - caused the deaths of Ash and Talpin in Azkaban.

"If nothing else, you should trust Professor Dumbledore. He wouldn't allow me to stay in the castle if he had any doubts of my innocence and the aurors will know that," Snape said, mistaking Harry's silence as trying to make sense of the situation the man had just explained rather than pondering his own issues, "but most of all, I need you to trust me when I say that I promise you I will not do anything that would leave you alone or vulnerable."

For some reason, the young wizard couldn't stop himself from thinking that was the kind of promise no one knew for sure they could keep.

~~~~SS~~~~

The atmosphere in the Great Hall-converted into a dormitory couldn't be any further from "Great" when Severus entered in the quarter hour after curfew. The candles no longer hung across the ceiling and the lanterns along the outside perimeter casted an eerie shadow across the space. The fireplace stayed lit - a distinct difference from the normal post dinner Hall - making it feel slightly more inviting, but not doing nearly enough to push away the cold from the room; a cold not caused by the early October weather seeping in through the drafty castle windows or stone walls, rather one birthed by the common thread of near tragedy forever linking them together.

Harry had stayed in the professor's temporary kitchen longer than expected. They talked about the investigation - more so regarding Harry's own partial interrogation than any intimate details found thus far - making sure to hide away his anxieties clouding the events. Hopefully this would lose steam as the reports came in with Kingsley's testimony supporting Severus's innocence during the hour prior to the enchantments and windows breaking. Unfortunately, the best case scenario would be for the report to claim failed security wards due to regular depletion over time. Technically, it would put Albus at fault, however the situation of repairing the ancient school wards wasn't something Severus thought came up often in one's tenure as Headmaster, so hopefully the other wizard would not see any major fallout from the events. He had his doubts over the innocuous nature of the dissolved enchantments, and as such would prepare himself as needed; which right now meant addressing his students and learning all he could from his Dark Charms texts.

They ended their night on a lighter topic; Severus's day at the MLD tomorrow and his date - with your girlfriend per Harry's overtly joyful banter - planned for Sunday. Severus may have had every intention of keeping his weekend plans, he also knew they very well could be cancelled if this conversation with his Slytherins went badly. Should his students need him here, for anything from providing structure to coordinating care with the hospital wing, he would make sure to accommodate them. Their foundation as a whole had shifted dramatically prior to the flood and now who knew where they'd be on the other side of it.

As promised, the Great Hall had been converted into a comfortable sleeping and studying area for his students. Without the tables taking up a majority of the space, one would be amazed at the amount of room available to house approximately a quarter of the student body comfortably. When they'd needed it to hold everyone during Sirius Black's - Severus shook his head for this being the second time in as many hours the Animagus had come to his mind - invasion into the castle, they'd all been squished together in sleeping bags, and Severus would not accept that level for his students after all they'd been through in the past two days. Camp beds were set up on the close and far end of the room, separated by gender with the boys nearest the door, donned in the same lavish green and silver bedding from the Slytherin dormitories. The middle of the Hall contained several sofas and armchairs, along with rows of desks for students to work in, and where a majority of the house was currently located.

The best part, and most important in Severus's opinion, was Albus's assurance to him that once the dinner hour ended and the room officially turned over to the Slytherins, only students from their house could be admitted. By no means was it comfortable or something they could sustain long-term, but as with everything else surrounding this event, it would do, and it gave them the protection they needed during a time they felt the most exposed. For all he knew, whoever had orchestrated this to begin with had known the next logical place to move the students would be the Great Hall; playing directly into his or her hand. The thought caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

"Professor?" Hala Khatib softly spoke, once again sending a proverbial shiver down his spine.

The more he interacted with the small first year, the less he liked her and simultaneously the more curious he became. Equally intriguing was how somehow he'd managed to unconsciously walk straight up to her sitting at one of the desks off to the left, near the fireplace - a clear deviation from his previous track into the center of the common area. Clasping his hands behind his back, he lifted his chin and asked, "Am I to assume you have sufficiently healed from your rescue escapade, Miss Khatib?"

Her mouth stayed tightly shut as she turned her head inquisitively at him, looking almost through him. A full minute passed, his students watching in fascination and a hint of fear, until she finally declared, "I am fine, professor. I do love swimming… and running… I'm pretty nimble on my feet, y'know. How are you?"

The last part sounded so randomly placed - not because no student outside of Harry would ever ask him such a question, its syntax didn't match the rest of her statement - Severus's head recoiled back several centimeters.

"I'll recover," he gave a firm nod and turned to address the rest of the house. Being on the far left hand side now meant he had the perfect vantage point to see his entire house of students; less those still needing care at St Mungo's.

"Mr Zabini," Severus loudly announced across the room, not caring that the seventh year he sought sat no more than four meters to his right, "go call Draco from his room."

"Yes, sir," the other wizard politely said, placing his Transfiguration book upside down on the armchair as he stood.

While Severus waited for the remaining two students to return, he inventoried the conditions of the other students. Most appeared healed on the outside - healing spells, potions, and salves could fix almost anything on the surface - however their hard eyes told a different story. Their home had been decimated and with it the only place they had any semblance of safety; though even that had been challenged as of late. This would forever change the landscape between him and his students, and between them as peers, making whatever statement he made that night more important than any other in his career.

Understanding the purpose for their Head of House's visit, the remaining students began to gather on any remaining seat available, and when they all filled up, they uncharacteristically sat on the floor. It took no more than five minutes for Blaise to return with Draco in his wake and both boys to join the group; Blaise regaining his spot on the silver armchair and Draco choosing to stand in the very back of the crowd, his jaw clenched and a small sneer upon his face as he looked around at his fellow classmates.

"First and foremost," Severus began, his voice more somber than any other time he'd addressed his students, especially this year, "I'd like to assure you all that while what you read in the papers this evening is not entirely false, there were several… pertinent… details left out-"

"-So the aurors do think you did this?" Harper's nasally voice cut him off, causing the rest of the house to turn towards their classmate - a move the young, ambitious student surely anticipated.

"I should hope they would," Severus admitted without faltering. "As someone with unlimited access to your Common Room and dormitories at any given time, combined with my requirement for every single one of you to be in the Dungeons prior to curfew had they not questioned me about it, I would argue they weren't taking the incident seriously enough. Those two reasons alone give them more than enough plausible reason to turn to as a reasonable first suspect. I was, in fact, interrogated by Chief Sampson yesterday upon waking, and I will likely continue to be questioned regarding my abrupt change in policies this year and whereabouts leading up to the windows breaking-" he inadvertently made eye contact with Hala. "Thus far, everything I've stated has been checked out and, as of this moment, I am not being charged in relation to the crime. There is no doubt in my mind that had the DMLE seriously considered me a danger, I would not be standing here. As the aurors continue to wrap up their evidence gathering and start putting the pieces together I will continue to make myself available to them, you all should be prepared to be questioned as well. They may pull you from classes, meals, or the library, to do so.

"The headmaster and I expect full compliance on your part during this period of questioning and encourage you to speak up about anything you may have seen or heard since the start of term. A word of caution: take this extremely seriously. What you say to the aurors is part of an official investigation and lying in any form - by omission or otherwise - is considered perjury and even as students, is punishable by full extent of the law. Those of you under seventeen will require parental or guardian consent in order for them to speak with you. Though the aurors are professional and will obtain this, if your parent or guardian is not present, I suggest you ask to see the written consent waiving their physical presence. If they cannot produce this document, you are not required to speak with them… ultimately, you need to look out for your own best interest. As your Head of House, all of you, regardless of your age, may request for me to sit in as well. Given the circumstances, I will not take offense should this make any of you uncomfortable, however the only other substitute would be the headmaster."

He paused knowing everything he'd explained would take some time to sink in. The students would be craving some kind of normalcy again; something he desperately wanted to provide for them, but not at the expense of them being ill-prepared for what may lie ahead. Whether no one wanted to speak up about the Prophet article and interrogation, or were simply too worn out to ask, he didn't know, however when the first question - when can we go back? - came from one of the second year girls, he assumed it to be the latter.

"I spoke with Professor Dumbledore this morning regarding the clean up and renovations to your space," Severus said, addressing the group as a whole, but not missing Draco's proud smirk knowing his father had a hand in this aspect of the flood, "and due to a rather… wealthy… donation, he's expecting you to be back into the dormitory portion no later than Monday night. Most of the common room will continue to be completely warded off, but we mutually agreed getting you all back into your beds, safely, is a top priority."

He went on to explain the plans, in detail, for the renovations on their Common Room and dormitories; making sure to emphasize their safety more times than probably necessary. Again, very few questions or comments were brought up, yet he didn't dare make the assumption that their silence equated to their trust. They were all Slytherins, after all, and while Severus may have been doubting what it meant for him lately, he wouldn't be the least surprised - or unprepared - if half of this students tired to take advantage of the situation he found himself in with the aurors, the Prophet, and now the wizarding world as a whole.