Severus Snape considered himself a master of the halls from the Slytherin side of the school all the way up to the Gryffindor common rooms. He knew every nook and cranny, he knew exactly when the staircases would change and connect to another hall, he knew where the ghosts were, which hallway had which painting or suit of armor, and most importantly he knew exactly which hallway would be most likely have exactly which student.

But while Severus might be master of the halls, he was not, and he knew this, master of fate.

It was Sunday night and tomorrow classes would begin again for the second week of the new school year. Students were still filled up with what they had done over the summer, still in love with the warm night air, the freedom to go where you pleased when you pleased, and he knew that the Gryffindors esepcially would be ready to try and sneak out of the dormitories. So he had positioned himself in the exact spot where whoever the first unlucky student was to try and escape would not see him as he or she slipped out, but Severus would be in the perfect position to see them. Following which in the perfect position to give the poor brat detention for a week cleaning toad scum off the bottom of cauldrens that had not gotten washed at the end of last year.

Minutes passed and he waited patiently. They would come. A few more minutes passed and the portrait of the fat lady swung open. Severus smirked. He was never wrong about these things. Except there was one problem, the painting had opened, true enough, but as far as he could see there was no one there. That could mean only one thing.

"Accio!" he whispered and a flimsy, silvery cloth flew into his hand, leaving a lone figure standing in the hallway like a deer caught in the headlight.

"Potter," Severus said with no little amount of sadisfaction, "What are you doing out after curfew? I thought by now, surely, you would understand the rules and the consequences of your foolish actions." He was about to go on when he saw Potter shaking. Was the idiot boy laughing at him?

"Potter- turn around!" he barked. Oh, that brat was going to get a month's worth of detention for laughing at him. The boy made no move to listen. "I said turn around!" Slowly, almost as if it was painful to him, Potter turned around. Surprise welled up in Severu's throat but he forced it back down. Potter hadn't been laughing at him- he had been crying.

"Potter, for sneaking out you will recieve-"

"A trip to my office," cut in Dumbledore's voice. Severus turned around, squinting in the darkness to see the headmaste'rs outline in the moon's faint light. "Which you will attend to as well, Severus."

"Headmaster," Severus tried to protest but even in the dark he could see the look in Dumbledore's eyes.

"All right," he finished stiffly.

"All right," Potter echoed hollowly, tears still streaking down his cheeks. Pity tried to overwhelm Severus but he bit it down with twice the force he had the surprise. He was not going to feel sorry for Potter, he was NOT!

As the three made their way to Dumbledore's office Severus noticed that Potter dragged his feet along as though he was carrying the weight of the world. Well, Severus admitted to himself, in a way he was. But that was not what worried- yes, worried, not that he would admit it out loud mind you- about. What worried him was that Potter's expression and the auora that he sensed around Potter was exactly what he had been like his entire childhood and teenage years, especially after recieving the darkmark. So caught up in his thoughts Severus hardly noticed when they finally reached the office. Except then-

"Hey, what took ya s'long?" asked a girl who did not sound British in the least. Not to mention she held a really long stick, the kind used for fighting loosely in her right hand.

"Who is that?" Potter asked, finally showing some signs of life.

"The name's Aella," she raised an eyebrow at him. "Who're you?"