Hermione arrived at breakfast with eyes cast downward. Ron jumped up and eagerly led her to their area of the table, strongly reminding Harry of his Animagus animal form.

“Hey, Hermione. How are you feeling?” Harry asked her.

“Not bad.” She took her place between Ron and Ginny. “Can’t complain about one night of bad dreams, can I? Not with how many you’ve had.” This last she directed at Harry.

“We’ll let you complain,” Ron insisted. “Won’t we?” he confirmed with his friend.

“’Course,” Harry said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes in embarrassment and accepted the pumpkin juice Ron handed her solicitously.

Breakfast passed uneventfully. Post arrived, causing some to tease Ginny until she snapped at them, thoroughly tired of it. Most of the students departed to get ready for class, but the six of them stayed on because Hermione was eating slowly, clearly lacking appetite.

Snape strode along to their section of the table on his way out. “An interesting night, I hear,” he said, eyes darting between them. All Harry could think was his guardian did not know quite how exciting. “Did you of all people mis-brew a dream-inducing potion, Ms. Granger?” Snape asked, curiously.

“No, Professor—worked too well, actually.” She glanced from him to the clock. “We should get to class,” she said to her friends.

“Did you get enough to eat?” Ron asked in concern.

When she swallowed hard and nodded with a frown, they all stood up. Snape stepped back to give them room. Harry was just considering how exactly to explain what had happened when a screech interrupted their departure. The remaining students halted as a blurred violet bullet zipped around the open door to the hall and headed straight at Harry.

Everyone moved. Snape had his wand out, but missed with whatever spell he had incanted when the thing dodged it with a quick bank and dip of its wings. Ron went up for the block but only got his fingers shredded for his trouble. Harry got a chest full of fuzzy critter that somehow managed to not actually puncture him with its numerous needle-like claws.

Seeing Snape aiming his wand, Harry backed away with his hand up. “It’s all right!” he insisted.

Harry carefully plucked the furry, four legged bat-like creature off his chest. It squirmed out of his grip and scrambled up to his shoulder, where it clung hard to his robes. Everyone stared. Snape glared intently, but lowered his wand.

Harry sighed and said, “Last night was more interesting than you know.”

Malfoy charged through the door, wand out and when his eyes found Harry and the creature, he stalked over in pure rage. As he bore down on Harry, Malfoy pulled up short with a glance at the teacher, and forced himself calm.

“Pansy thinks you messed with our assignment,” he said, voice shaking. Claw scratches marred his cheek.

“It’s a long story,” Harry said.

The creature was burying its head in Harry’s hair and collar to hide. Malfoy’s face twisted at the sight of this.

“You should take points off Gryffindor for his intentionally ruining our assignment,” Malfoy demanded of Snape, his face reddening.

“That is for your Care of Magical Creatures professor to decide, Mr. Malfoy.”

“We didn’t ruin it anyway,” Harry said. “Why didn’t you finish it yourself? Clearly you were going for this transformation from the beginning,” he added, thinking aloud.

Malfoy dropped his arms and backed off warily. His eyes darted between Harry and Snape before he spun on his heel and stalked off. Harry plucked the transformed wombat off his neck again only to have it insist on climbing his arm to reach his shoulder again.

“What am I going to do with this?”

Snape reached for it, only to have its vicious shrieking fill the hall. He jerked his hand back just in time. “Perhaps go down to Hagrid and ask,” he said flatly, brows raised in worry as Harry petted it to calm it down.

“All right if I’m late for class, then?” Harry teased.

“If you must,” Snape sighed with false suffering. “If you can avoid bringing that…it would be better.”

But Harry could not avoid bringing the creature. Hagrid insisted that it needed to stay with him. When Harry asked for how long, Hagrid had only mumbled something and insisted that it was Harry’s fault he was blood paired with it.

It had taken a long time for Harry to explain exactly what had happened the night before. Finally the argument that Malfoy had been leaving it there to suffer, as Hermione had seen in her dream, got him back in Hagrid’s good favor so he could leave for class.

As he stepped into Defense, he gave Snape an apologetic shrug for still having the creature. Everyone turned and stared at him in curiosity, except Malfoy and Parkinson, who sent him daggers with their eyes.

At the end of the session Harry’s friends gathered around.

“How’s he doing?” Ron asked.

“She actually, according to Hagrid,” Harry said.

“It is cute.” Penelope reached out to pet it, but it screeched and viciously tried to nip her multiple times, even stretching its lean furry neck out to follow her hand away and get in multiple shots.

“I hope all girlfriends aren’t like that,” Harry commented.

“They are,” Dean breathed, while Neville nodded sagely along with him.

The girls looked insulted as the rest of them laughed.

Harry still had the wombat bat at dinner time, since removing it from his person involved risking losing several fingers and a pint of blood. Left alone it seemed to have a livable disposition.

“You’re going to have to name it,” Ron commented with a laugh. “Looks like it’s yours for good.”

Harry turned to the creature on his shoulder and peered at it. It raised its head from sniffing the aromas wafting up from the table to look back at him with beady black-blue eyes, tiny curled ears flicking forward and back. Its nose was still blue, with a touch of blue fur around it which blended into a violent violet except for its wing skin, which was darker.

Ron tore off a hunk of roast beef and held it up for the beast. “Wah!” Ron shouted and rocked back when it snatched the meat out of his fingers in an eye blink.

It proceeded to chew happily upon it.

“She get you?” Harry asked.

Ron reluctantly examined his hand as though expecting the worst. “No,” he replied in relief. “Name her Killer, maybe,” he said smartly.

“Looking for a name? Are you keeping that?” Ginny asked.

“It’s keeping me. I don’t seem to have any say,” Harry complained.

“How about Fly Paper?” Ginny suggested as the creature crawled down Harry’s front to take a closer look at his plate.

Harry lifted the wiry creature back to his shoulder, where she hissed until he handed her another piece of meat.

“Kali,” Hermione stated with certainty, “Goddess of Destruction.”

“I like that one,” Harry said with a grin and tore off another chunk of the bloodiest part of his roast and set it aside for when “Kali” wanted it.

“Well, I think we may have to manage our final scores just from the essay,” Hermione said to Frina in an apologetic tone.

They were putting their very blue, still small wombat back in its crate. Only two other project crates still on the attic floor had been changed for larger ones.

“I will take the potion if you wish to make more,” Frina offered.

“No,” Hermione stated in a tone of finality. “It isn’t worth it—believe me. Maybe just set an alarm for every two hours and if you think you were dreaming, come up and check.” She shrugged, apparently not caring about their grade anymore.

Ron held up his and Opus’ project. It had beard-like fur around its chin in bright green and a yellow swirl on its back.

“You should just keep it with you,” Harry said.

Harry’s own unintentional second project was asleep, locked in a crate in his dormitory. Hermione had suggested a Quiescent Charm, since it was a gentle one and Kali very small. It had worked, leaving him creature-free for the evening.

“What? Carry it around all day?” Ron asked in disbelief. When Harry and Penelope nodded knowledgeably, he slumped, “Oy.”

“We need to rush it along with growing,” Opus said, taking the animal expertly from Ron. It clung to the tall young man willingly.

“Yeah,” Ron said carefully, “I think it likes you better. Maybe you can take it tonight?”

Opus grinned. “If you wish. If you clean up, ya? I have that big essay to complete. It takes me longer in English than you, I think.”

“No problem,” Ron said.

Frina and Penelope looked antsy as Opus departed.

“Go on,” Harry said to them with a grin.

With relieved glances they followed Opus out. When everything was put away, they also tromped down the rickety wooden staircase out of the attic.

The three of them strolled down the quiet fourth floor corridor in a relaxed mood.

“Your membrane energy was good today, Harry,” Hermione said, recalling their earlier Advanced D.A. session. She sounded unusually reassuring and encouraging.

“McGonagall’s been helping me with it, you know,” Harry pointed out.

“Well, but still,” she insisted. She started to say more, but stopped.

“What she is trying to say,” Ron interjected, “is that you should be able to try your full form…anytime.”

Harry stared straight ahead as they walked. His friends were right, as usual. He let his curiosity war with the unknown of becoming something he did not fully understand and walked in silence.

More excited, Ron said, “Hey, then we can all go for a late-night stroll in the forest, you know. That would be great. Always wanted to do that.”

Harry felt doubtful, but didn’t reply in the face of Ron’s enthusiasm. Not long ago he would have relished the idea, perhaps as much, mainly because both Sirius and his dad would have jumped at the chance.

“Why don’t we just take ’mione down for a swim in the lake,” Harry suggested without seriousness. “You can retrieve her if the giant squid comes along.”

“Excellent idea!” Ron said boisterously.

“Oh, please,” she said. “Though I could swim in the lake easily, couldn’t I?”

“You honestly didn’t think of that?” Harry asked in surprise. “What, the big tub in the prefect’s bathroom is good enough?”

“Well…yes,” she admitted with a deep blush.

“Secret’s out,” Ron teased as he put an arm around her playfully, slowing her pace.

Harry bent over in laughter, since he had only been joking by suggesting it. He took a few steps ahead of them before turning when they didn’t catch up. He turned slowly because he really expected them to be snogging or something given the delay. Instead he found them still, frozen like mannequins, Ron’s arm crooked oddly in the air around Hermione’s shoulder.

Harry whipped his wand out of his pocket and spun back around. He waved it around his head and shouted “Bolerum!” and letting his wand motion flow into the next spell, followed with a Grand Flecture, hoping it would protect the two behind him just as a Ripple Curse struck, shivering Harry’s wand arm. It took every ounce of strength to stay upright and in front of his friends.

A mummy-like form emerged in the swirling air, although the grey things were falling away from it quickly as it struggled.

“Gravesco!” Harry incanted with anger, flicking his wand in little downward arcs.

The few clinging grey strands indicated the figure had collapsed suddenly and was trying to move sideways. Panting and bent over from the battering of the curse, Harry shuffled sideways to remain between the attacker and his friends.

A muffled voice incanted something and Harry put up a Chrysanthemum Block, a wide one to protect him and the others. Unfortunately, it did not hold well spread so thin, so the curse knocked him back and his body vibrated like a gong. Harry clung onto his wand through it, just barely. Immediately he returned an Unjackardum, aimed at the few remaining quivering grey strands, just as the Bolerum spell faded out, returning his opponent to invisibility.

A grunt sounded, followed by a ripping noise as the invisibility cloak separated into pieces, its weft weakened by the hex. A jagged figure appeared, trying to stand against the extreme weight Harry had cursed it with. Now that his assailant was nearly visible and he could aim carefully, Harry cast the hardest Blasting Curse he could produce. His opponent flew backward, skidded on the stone floor and lay still.

Harry spun around to his friends who stood like wax figures, apparently untouched. Afraid to try anything to animate them without understanding how they were frozen, Harry staggered over to his opponent. Doubled over and coughing, he fell to his knees beside the supine figure and yanked the visible remains of the cloak aside.

“Malfoy,” Harry whispered.

The next instant, Harry was flying backward, end over end. He hit the pillar between two windows with his back and shoulder. His foot arched behind him and smashed the colored panes of thick glass. His foot caught in the heavy leading of the window as he fell, turning him in the air and making his back strike hard on the unforgiving floor below the window, then tearing at his leg as it released him fully to gravity.

As he drew a frantic, difficult breath into resisting lungs, Harry looked up and found Draco Malfoy standing over him, dissolved cloak and dilapidated robe and white shirt clasped around him, wand aimed steadily. Shadows danced in Harry’s mind, one very close.

“When did you become a Death Eater?” Harry gasped, mystified.

The pale gaze and wand wavered in surprise. Harry latched desperately onto that advantage.

He laughed. “Who do you think inherited Voldemort’s power to see his servants?” he asked with as haughty a tone as he could manage.

The wand wavered more as Harry slowly moved his hand to look for his wand beside him. His leg throbbed where it had snagged in the window and his trouser leg clung wetly to his skin.

Malfoy’s wand stabilized and his confused look receded as anger retook him. “You should die now, I think,” he said, “Inheritor of my former lord or not.”

“I’d go with an Avada Kedavra, if I were you,” Harry stated helpfully, preparing himself to launch at the boy’s feet if he did so.

“Why?”

“It works so well on me,” Harry stated amiably. He had found his wand—he was lying on it. “Go on then,” Harry urged as his fingers closed around familiar warm wood.

“You aren’t lying,” Malfoy said, confused again. It was not a good mode for him. In fact, he was looking rather unbalanced now and his eyes vibrated in his skull.

In one smooth movement Harry brought his wand around and put up a Chrysanthemum Block, which was exactly the right thing for the bright, deadly, narrow, Cutting Curse that flared from Malfoy’s wand. The block was strong enough and the proximity close enough that it kicked Malfoy’s wand and arm away. As Malfoy dived to retrieve his wand, Harry sat up and used the full motion available to his arm to wave a Chain Binding Curse at his attacker, collapsing him. He added a second, just for good measure.

Harry tried to catch his breath while he watched for any sign of the curses loosening. He made it to his knees with immense effort just as running feet approached. Harry glanced half backward, not removing his wand’s aim from his fallen opponent. Snape came around the corner, followed close behind by Neville and Dean.

“Harry,” Snape exhaled in relief upon taking in the scene. He came up behind Harry and grasped his shoulders. Harry leaned gratefully backward into the support for his dizziness.

“What’s with them?” Dean asked of Hermione and Ron.

“Do not touch them!” Snape warned, putting a hand up. “I’ll take care of them.” He turned back to Harry and squeezed his shoulders. “Draco Malfoy,” he breathed. “I would not have believed it.”

“I don’t,” Harry said, eyeing the apparently unconscious figure. “Check him for potions.”

Snape looked back at Harry while moving to comply. “A Polyjuice?”

“No…”

Harry reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out the Map. With slow, effort-filled movements, he unfolded it. Snape glanced up from his search of Malfoy’s shredded clothes to watch Harry activate it. He rolled his eyes at the incantation before returning to his task.

“He doesn’t need that much help. See,” Harry said, holding out the parchment.

Snape had found a small bottle in Malfoy’s trouser pocket. He held it to the light before turning to the parchment Harry held out.

Snape stiffened severely. “L. Malfoy?” he breathed and with a quick, jerking motion pulled his wand back out and aimed it at the fallen, chained figure.

Malfoy’s grey-blue eyes snapped open. Breathing heavily in anger, Snape stepped closer to stand fully over the other man. He waved the small bottle over him. “Elixir of Youth, I presume?” he snarled.

“I should have killed you first good chance I had,” Malfoy said with pure malevolence. His face fell, resigned and disgusted. “Trouble was, I was enjoying my freedom a little too much. So easy being back at school.”

With a start Harry thought of Suze. Suze and all the other seemingly small things that now loomed large and terrible when drawn into the same picture.

“How long have you been here, Lucius?” Snape demanded.

“Since Easter Holiday,” Harry answered. “I’ve been seeing his shadow, warped by the spells of the Tower. I just didn’t know it. And it must have been Draco trying to get out of Azkaban, probably a little tired of being there. I’m sure he isn’t too happy with you,” Harry said the last to Malfoy Senior.

“Severus, can you wake them?” he tipped his head at his still-frozen friends.

Snape gestured fiercely for Neville and Dean to help guard Malfoy as he went over to Ron and Hermione. He looked them each over closely before tapping one then the other while reciting rather long and complicated Latin. Ron swooned limp followed by Hermione, although they both immediately struggled to get up. Snape pulled Hermione to her feet first before helping Ron.

“Harry!” they said in alarm and came over.

“Blimey!” Ron muttered, pulling out his wand and standing beside Dean and Neville.

“You all right, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“No,” he replied honestly since about six major parts of him were extraordinarily unhappy with him. His throbbing shoulder and his bloody leg were arguing for first place in the battle for most painful.

Snape stepped over to him and pulled him to his feet and hitched Harry’s arm over his shoulder. “Pomfrey, now,” he said.

Harry gasped but managed to take his own weight.

Malfoy raised his head, the only thing he could have moved. “You disgust me, Severus, you bloody traitor. You should be tortured to death.”

Harry pulled his wand out and stalled Snape’s retreat as he aimed it at Lucius Malfoy. “Don’t you dare threaten him,” Harry hissed.

“Do not waste your strength, Harry. Come,” Snape said in a remarkably easy tone.

Harry relented and let himself be led away. McGonagall and the other teachers were shuffle-running in their direction down the corridor.

“Oh dear! Harry,” the headmistress breathlessly said in deep concern upon seeing him.

Snape tossed his head behind him. “Contact the Aurors. It is Lucius Malfoy, disguised as Draco.”

Her eyes spread extraordinarily wide, and she gestured to Flitwick to go back the way they had come.

“Sure you want to walk?” Snape asked.

“Yes,” Harry insisted, exceedingly tired of being carried and hovered.

Hermione and Ron followed alongside Harry’s plodding pace.

Snape said, “You fared much better this time.” He glanced behind them. “Even given that you had to protect your friends.”

Through the haze of pain Harry’s lips twitched into a smile at the tone of pride he heard. “Could have done better—should have used the chain binding right away. Had to get off the floor though…” He was regretting that lack of strategy more and more with each step.

Harry was leaning quite heavily on his guardian and Ron by the time they arrived at the hospital wing. The three of them helped him onto a bed where he collapsed upon it.

“Mr. Potter,” Pomfrey said in disbelief as she came beside the bed. “Again?”

Harry closed his eyes and let his exhausted self go.

The waking world returned reluctantly. Harry shifted and felt the distinctive semi-reclined position of a hospital bed. Memory flooded him and his arms jerked with an instinct to take action. A hand brushed the hair off his forehead, sending a bolt like electrical static through his scar and waking him completely.

“It’s all right, Harry,” Snape said from beside the bed.

His gaze looked uncertain, though, when Harry found it with his blurry vision. Snape held out his glasses which Harry accepted gratefully.

Snape straightened in his chair. “Pomfrey said you may leave when you feel up to it.” When Harry squinted at the clock in the dimness, Snape provided, “It is just after three in the morning.”

“Not worth waking my dormitory mates,” he whispered. Experimentally, he moved his injured leg. It felt heavily bandaged. He pulled the covers aside to look and found his shin to his foot bound firmly in white cloth.

“You had quite a bit of glass in your leg,” Snape stated.

“It felt like it.” Harry stretched his shoulders and neck, glad to find only stiffness there. He tossed the covers back over his foot and sighed. “Any news?” he asked, thinking that the Aurors must have come and taken Malfoy away.

“The Ministry Aurors do wish to speak with you. They will likely return at lunchtime today to do so. Also, Minerva is rather pleased that this situation has been resolved.”

“Especially with the party coming up,” Harry added with intentional vagueness.

“I think, more likely,” Snape said with forced patience, “that she is happy to not have to worry so much about you…and the other students.”

Harry grinned before his face fell. “I’m remembering all the things Malfoy has been up to.”

“You are not alone in that,” Snape stated forcefully. “It will take some attentive sorting out.” He paused, shook his head. “I did not suspect. I assumed he was growing up and becoming more obnoxious, which did not seem surprising given he no longer had strong adult supervision at home. As you surmised, Draco switched places with his father during a visit to the prison over Easter Holiday.”

“On Monday?” Harry asked, thinking of Knockturn Alley.

Snape replied, “Sunday, and it was he on Knockturn Alley on Monday, according to Malfoy himself. He divulged some of what happened during a Veritaserum session conducted before taking him away.”

“Sorry to have missed that,” Harry commented. “What about Jugson?”

“A plant, for the Aurors to capture. Put there after Lucius’ hiding place was revealed. Lucius fetched him to be caught in his stead when Burke told him it was he whom the Aurors were searching for.” Snape ended with a wry expression.

Harry froze. “Oh,” he muttered.

Snape stood. “You should rest,” he said, patting Harry on the arm. “Now that you should be able to do so.”

Harry sighed again as he relaxed against the pillow. The door to the wing fell closed. Harry was not very tired, but eventually he drifted into a calm sleep.

Harry’s friends came in early in the morning, as he was putting on his shoes.

“Morning, Harry,” Hermione and Ron greeted him cheerfully as they came in the door followed by a troop of others.

“You end up here frequently,” Penelope said.

“Er, yeah,” Harry agreed, more than a bit embarrassed. He shook out his robe prior to slipping it on. As he was straightening his uniform around himself, he heard an odd sound from behind Ron. “What’s that?”

“Ah, well, this thing drove everyone nuts last night, ’til we silencioed it. But ’Mione thought it might really need to get out and see you.” Ron brought the crate containing Kali from behind his back.

“Oh,” Harry said, remembering the creature.

Its tiny paw reached between the slats and clawed at empty air in his direction. He took the crate and set it on the bed to release it. With an unearthly shriek it clamored up to his shoulder and circled his neck several times. It seemed nearly frantic.

“They’re empathetic, I’m pretty sure,” Hermione said. “And this one maybe the most because of the blood you gave it.”

Harry patted Kali when she finally sat still and mewed piteously.

“Poor thing,” Hermione said.

“Poor thing?” Ron echoed in disbelief. “That thing would take off your nose just as well as look at you! Poor thing,” he repeated with a scoff.

Harry took his wand from the bedside stand, momentarily studying the torn and flattened, unpolished edge of it that had wicked up thin stains of blood. He was not going to get to Ollivander’s until the school year was over.

Kali mewled while sniffing his ear, which tickled. “’S all right,” he insisted, patting it again.

The doors opened and Snape strode in, just as Ron was complaining about his empty stomach and how they should be heading down to breakfast.

Harry’s guardian stepped into their group and looked him over. “You still have that?” he asked in dismay. Kali stretched toward Snape to sniff him.

“I don’t have any choice,” Harry said easily. “I’m starting to like her.”

Ron commented, “Well then, we should get her something to eat before she takes someone’s hand off.”

“What’s Headmistress McGonagall going to say?” Ron asked on the way to class, nodding at Kali, who was crouching comfortably on Harry’s shoulder.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” Harry whispered as they stepped through the classroom door.

They took their seats. McGonagall’s gaze swept past them, alighting briefly on the creature, then away.

“Sorry, Professor,” Harry said, loud enough to be heard at the front of the room.

A little stiffly, she said, “It is an immature Chimrian, Mr. Potter. I do understand what that means.”

Harry, out of the corner of his eye, could see Hermione pull out a quill and jot that down.

When McGonagall went over to speak with a Hufflepuff who had asked a question, Hermione said, “Guess we don’t know everything for that essay yet.”

After class, McGonagall approached as they packed up their books. “My office, Mr. Potter—the Aurors should be here shortly.”

Harry nodded. His friends patted him on the arm as he departed, as though he might be the one in trouble. He waved them off a bit impatiently and followed McGonagall, who asked how he was feeling in a way which made him think she felt responsible for what had happened. He reassured her as they went that he was fine and hinted that he was happy to have had the chance to get even.

In her office Harry warmly greeted Tonks and Rogan. Seeing this, the headmistress said, “I will be down in the Great Hall, should you need me.”

Harry took a seat as the door closed behind her, lifting Kali from his shoulder to his lap.

“You have a pet?” Rogan asked.

“A class assignment,” Harry explained. “Well, someone else’s class assignment. It’s a long story.” He thought some more. “Malfoy’s actually.”

“Seems to like you,” Tonks said, watching Kali snuffle around Harry’s hands. “Nice color too,” she added, making Harry grin. She went on, “Well, let’s get started. Would have preferred to have interviewed you last night, but there were too many indignant teachers and badgering hospital witches in the way.”

Harry tried to imagine that scene and was glad he had been unconscious for it.

Tonks rearranged some parchments in front of her. “You really got hammered both incidents, didn’t you?”

“Did better the second time,” Harry insisted, worried that they might think less of him because of what had happened. “Maybe,” he hemmed, rethinking the two exchanges of spells over again.

Tonks shook her head. “Just one Death Eater, Harry,” she said in a disappointed tone. She winked at Rogan, but Harry didn’t notice.

“I know,” Harry admitted, self-recriminating, reviewing his mistakes yet again. A cloak shouldn’t have been that much of an advantage, really. “I keep thinking about that.”

“Harry,” she said. “I’m only teasing.”

“Oh.”

She dipped her quill in McGonagall’s inkwell. “Let’s start at the beginning.” When Harry hesitated, she prompted, “Harry?”

With sweating palms Harry said, “I lied at the very beginning. I’m sorry.”

She froze an instant before setting the loaded quill down on the blotter. With a befuddled expression she said, “Let’s go over it first, then write it down after we have it straight.” She looked honestly confused.

“It was Malfoy on Knockturn Alley that day, he said so himself,” Harry explained.

She rubbed her lips thoughtfully. “And you told us Jugson. Why?”

“I didn’t know who it was—I was guessing.”

Both of their brows furrowed. Tonks said, “You called us down there, told us you saw one of the remaining Death Eaters—”

“I did see one,” he insisted. “I would never lie about that. Ever.” With a frown he added, “I just didn’t see one the way you think.” Harry rubbed his forehead and eyes, feeling a little unwell at having to confess this. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be allowed to be an Auror if the Ministry found out…” Harry took a deep breath. “…found out I still have visions I inherited from Voldemort.”

He studied Tonks for a reaction. She did not respond, just considered him closely.

“I see his followers as shadows in my dreams,” Harry said. “And I was tired that day and resting my eyes while I was waiting, and suddenly there were two shadows in my mind.”

“Two?” she asked sharply.

“Well, yes—Severus and the unknown one.”

Her face fell away into an odd stillness. “You see Severus as a shadow, as one of Voldemort’s followers?” When Harry nodded, she asked quietly, “That doesn’t bother you?”

“No,” Harry replied honestly. “I don’t mind somehow.” He didn’t think he could explain how protective it felt at the house, when he knew the shadow was Snape, when he would come to check on him at night, as no one had ever done before.

She seemed alarmed and doubtful as she considered that, but moved on. “And we know the rest of what happened in Knockturn Alley. What happened here at Hogwarts?”

Harry explained about his sleep becoming disturbed, about the respelling of the tower, the first attack, and Malfoy’s increase in obnoxiousness and his confusion on certain points.

Kali began chewing on the hair behind Harry’s ear. He waved her snout away and said, “Lucius didn’t know about Draco’s prepping of his assignment for Care of Magical Creatures. That’s how I ended up bonding with it, after Hermione dreamed it being trapped and we freed it. I should have been more suspicious of that. Draco worked diligently on his assignment early on. I should have wondering longer why he suddenly didn’t care.”

Harry’s pride twisted uneasily telling this to two Aurors. “I need to learn to be looking for connections all the time, I think.”

Tonks fiddled with the quill as she listened.

After Harry finished recounting the spell exchange in the second attack, Tonks looked over at Rogan. “What do you think? No one has commented on the discrepancy in the statements relating to Knockturn Alley. And since it’s a recapture of a lifer this is unlikely to go to review where it would get put into a timeline.”

“Whitley is the one who would have noted it on the record, and you are right, he didn’t,” Rogan returned thoughtfully. He sat hunched now, the sweep of his brown hair falling over one cheekbone.

Tonks explained, “Whitley was the older gentlemen you met that day in Knockturn Alley. Came out of retirement to help us while we are shorthanded.” She flicked the quill over the backs of her fingers. “I would hate to think the Ministry wouldn’t trust you, Harry, no matter what. But anything surrounding or even hinting at Voldemort makes them irrationally paranoid.” She fell silent.

“Leave the earlier report alone” Rogan suggested in a low voice. “They’ve been strutting about getting Jugson. They very much prefer things straightforward like the report is now. Skip to the school for this interview.” He gave a one shouldered shrug. “Potter here can’t help how he saw things.”

Harry looked between them and wondered which of them was in charge, or if they were equals.

“I hate to make exceptions,” Tonks said as she started to write, the quill scritching loudly on the rough parchment. “Leaving stuff off is the kind of thing that let everything get out of control in the first place when Voldemort first returned.”

She bounced the quill in the inkwell excessively.

“But for you, Harry…” She glanced up at him with a small smile and kept writing.