Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

A New Spy

Chapter 42

A New Spy

xxx

Harry stood silently at the front of the Room of Requirement, surveying his surroundings with an austere expression that didn't seem befitting of a face so young. By his side stood Ginny Weasley, who, though equally as quiet, was scrutinizing him rather than the room. If he would have looked over at her, he would have wondered at the expression of concern on her face. For the moment, however, he was oblivious to all except his own train of thought.

Harry and Severus had ended their conversation on a serious note several nights ago. Severus had encouraged the reforming of this group, even if only to warn the other students of the danger ahead. The time had come, Severus had told him, to begin making preparations for what would ultimately be both the climax and the resolution of the war; it was doubtful that Harry would be the only intended casualty when the time came, so it was reasonable to educate those who would likely be targets as well. As far as his father was concerned, students were the greatest threat to Voldemort; for if resilient and resistant to his actions while young, the complications they would cause as adults would surely be far worse.

So, after considering the prospect for several days and consulting several peers on the issue, Harry had decided to take his father's well reasoned advice and reform the D.A. Perhaps it was not for the purpose of leading them through battle tactics and dueling strategy (Moody had been doing an admirable job of teaching them those particular skills throughout the year), but it was an excellent way to gain support and advise caution where necessary. A number of things could be accomplished through periodic meetings—this had not been a source of concern for Harry over the past year, due to his preoccupation with other issues in his life—but the attack on St. Mungo's had reminded everyone of the reality that outside of Hogwarts' walls, there was a silent yet constantly waging war occurring throughout the Wizarding World.

"Where are they?" Harry finally asked quietly, turning his intent gaze to the door. He said this in reference to Ron and Hermione, who had taken on the task of finding everyone who had previously been a member of the D.A. and requesting their presence at this impromptu meeting.

"I'm sure they're on their way—it'll just take a while for everyone to be rounded up. I seriously doubt activating the coins has notified anyone; I lost mine three weeks into the summer."

"Responsible," Harry commented tersely, causing Ginny to whip her head around and glare fiercely at him.

"You don't have to be so mean," she responded, crossing her arms. "I know you're tense, but that's no reason to take it out on anyone else—especially me."

Harry sighed exasperatedly, and said, "I'm not trying to be mean, Ginny—"

"No, you've just been spending too much time around your father, that's all," she interrupted grudgingly, moving towards the door and leaning against the wall there.

"It's got nothing to do with him," Harry responded, frowning at the accusation. It did occur to him, however, that there might have been some truth to her statement. Without meaning to, he had sounded remarkably like Severus several moments ago.

"Oh, I'll bet," Ginny remarked sarcastically.

"Ginny—"

"No, it's fine, Harry. Just leave it," she said, opening up the door. "I'm going to go see where Hermione and Ron have got to. Stay here in case they return."

Harry hadn't had any plans to do otherwise, but as she was out the door the moment she'd finished speaking, he had no chance to tell her as much. He sighed and moved to one of the chairs along the side of the room, sinking down into it and running his hands through his disorderly mop of hair.

He'd been prone to snappishness all day long, and had succumbed to the temptation several times now. Earlier, he had left the common room in a fit of temper after telling Hermione off for reminding him about an upcoming Transfiguration test. In retrospect, it had been a foolish thing to become so worked up over; enforcing good study habits had always been a habit of Hermione's, and often a helpful one at that. Still, at the time, he had taken it rather personally.

Still worse was how he had reacted to another of Ron's poorly constructed jokes: he had promptly informed him that he had, despite his best efforts, failed to adopt the same humorous trait that was possessed by his older brothers, and that for this reason, it was in everyone's best interest that he stop trying.

It was not in Harry's nature to snap at his friends, especially with such cutting insults. He was unsure what to blame these instances on, other than the stress he was experiencing from a number of factors. He was still recovering from the rather taxing holiday he'd spent with his father: though he had not previously realized how stressful it had been, now that things were returning to their normal state, he understood that both of them had been under pressures that they had never previously had to face. Severus had been forced to share his space with an adolescent who, Harry could admit, was not always the ideal housemate. Harry had been obligated to put up with Severus' inclinations to snappishness, and his states of indifference and fastidiousness, which the man seemed prone to fluctuating between at random. As far as trials went, it could have gone much worse… but it had been easy by no means.

Though he was sure that certain elements of their relationship would return to normal now that they were both back in their comfort zones, Harry could not help but feel a certain amount of tension every time he returned to Severus' quarters. He was still feeling uncomfortable with the fact that Severus had not punished him for his last misdeed; though the man had assured him that he'd been punished enough, Harry felt—and perhaps this was out of sheer paranoia—that the blow was still sure to fall. Every conversation he'd had with Severus since three nights ago had invariably begun on a note of nervousness from Harry, and had ended with Severus making a noticeable effort to put him at ease.

Harry was, of course, glad for the reprieve Severus seemed to be granting by doing this, but it was out of character in comparison with the remoteness the man had displayed when it had come to shows of affection over the holidays. Perhaps it had been that in his home, where he felt most exposed, he had wanted to prevent a feeling of vulnerability—this hadn't struck Harry as a significant thought until now, and he wondered why he had not lent consideration to any of these factors while he had stayed with the man. If he had focused more on his father's feelings during the time, there was a chance that things might have gone better.

It did seem rather silly to focus on what couldn't be changed, however. Aside from the few rows they'd endured, the holiday had served as an assurance that even if their time together wasn't always harmonious, they were both capable of finding ways to deal with one another.

Harry was relieved when, a short while later, Hermione was the first one to enter the room. She greeted him with a fleeting smile and a comforting pat of the arm, saying immediately, "I've gone through my portion of the list. I've asked them to meet us here about fifteen minutes from now; that should allow them to finish up whatever they are doing, and hopefully Ron will be here by then." Harry nodded, and Hermione took a glance around. "Where's Ginny?"

"She went to find you and Ron," Harry answered stiffly.

"Oh, well I'm sure she's with him, then," Hermione responded absently, still gazing around the room. "New books?" she questioned, as she moved to the bookshelves that were aligned against the wall furthest from the door.

"The room does have several new features," Harry noted as he followed her, tension ebbing away somewhat at change of topic. As the year went on, Harry was finding Hermione's presence more and more comfortable, even when he felt that he would rather be alone. "It must know something I don't."

"I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing," Hermione mumbled, pulling over a stepping stool and climbing atop it. "I don't think we even have some of these texts in the library," she commented, rifling through the titles on the top shelf.

"You have the library memorised?" Harry asked, coming to stand next to her.

Hermione angled her head downward and lifted her eyebrows, apparently trying for a threatening look. The effect was ruined, however, by the fact that, even on the stepping stool, she was still only a few inches taller than Harry. Harry tried to hold back a laugh, and Hermione's expression relented into an expression of airy annoyance. "It's only because I've gone through the library's index so many times," she explained, returning to her evaluation of the book titles. "I'm always on the lookout for new texts. I just like knowing they're available."

Harry was about to ask her what sort of books had appeared on that shelf when the door opened, and in walked Ron, with Ginny at his heels.

"Did you tell everyone?" Harry asked, moving away from Hermione and towards his other friend. Behind him, Hermione hopped off the stool and pushed it against the wall, making her way over to them.

"Everyone we could find," Ron answered, shrugging. "There might have been a few I missed, but I'm sure word will spread soon enough."

"Hopefully," Harry said.

Neville was the first to arrive, closely flanked by the Creevey brothers. The arrivals came quickly after that, one after another, until a moderately large group of students was assembled before Harry. They all talked animatedly, speculating loudly upon the reasons for which they had been gathered; Harry could not help the surge of annoyance he felt at this, for if they would only quiet down, he thought, then he would simply tell them the purpose of the meeting.

While Harry stood quietly at the front of the room, Hermione took a different approach. With a meaningful glare, she cleared her throat loudly, gaining the attention of several students. Seeing that she had achieved some effect, she cleared her throat again, causing a few more students to direct their gazes towards her.

"For goodness sakes, Hermione, you're beginning to remind me of Umbridge," Ginny muttered in her direction before inserting two fingers into her mouth and eliciting a high pitched whistle. Silence fell at this, and she looked at Hermione in triumph. "And that is how it's done," she declared. Hermione lifted her eyebrows in a mixture of disapproval and slight huffiness, but said nothing more.

"Erm, thanks," Harry said to the two girls, who were stepping away. Keenly aware of all the pairs of eyes resting on him, he turned towards the other students, and gave the group a nod of recognition. "I'm glad to see so many of you back here," he told them in way of greeting, searching out all the familiar faces. He received a few encouraging smiles, and he continued.

"I'm sure you're all a little confused about why I've asked you here today. It is true, as I've heard several of you suggest," Harry said pointedly, aiming his gaze in the direction of the offending students, "that we no longer have need for a group in which we learn how to defend ourselves—we have Moody for that. However, I think it is important that we are all aware of the current dangers that we are facing. It makes very little sense to prepare ourselves when we don't even know what we are supposed to be fighting against."

"Wouldn't Dumbledore tell us if there was something we needed to be watching out for?" asked Zacharias Smith.

"Dolt," Harry heard Ron cough from behind him. He suppressed a smile, and answered the cheeky boy.

"You should remember that not everyone in Hogwarts is loyal to our cause," Harry reminded him stiffly. "It would be a bit difficult to announce over dinner what I am about to tell you."

Zacharias stared challengingly at him for several moments, and then leaned back and tipped his chin upwards. "Fine, continue then."

Out of pure irritation and short temper, Harry wanted to tell him to leave, right then and there. Instead, however, he merely set his jaw and stared straight faced at the younger student.

"You know, if you could just keep your mouth shut for the rest of this meeting, the whole thing would probably go a lot faster," Ginny finally snapped when Harry failed to respond verbally, drawing a low mixture of chuckles and quiet sniggering from the rest of the group.

"That's true," added Luna, who was sitting only a few seats away from Zacharias. He aimed his haughty glare at her, and she shrugged. "Well, it is," she said unapologetically.

"Anyway," Harry continued, before Zacharias had a chance to respond. "I'll get to the point—there's no use in giving you a preamble of sorts. Hogwarts may no longer be safe, and you should be warned to guard your conversations and keep wary of your surroundings."

"Why aren't we safe anymore?"

"Who told you this?"

"You can't be serious—"

"Shut up!" Harry shouted, putting a quick stop to the noise and commotion. "I can't tell you everything. All I can say is that Voldemort is training someone to be his protégé, and in all likelihood, that someone attends this school."

"Do you know who it is?" asked a voice that Harry instantly recognized as Neville's. He found his fellow Gryffindor's round face in the group, and shook his head.

"Probably a Slytherin," said a Ravenclaw boy, whose name Harry didn't know.

"Watch what you're saying about Slytherin," Harry found himself responding. He saw several people's eyebrows shoot up into their fringe at that, and he had to admit that even he himself was a bit surprised to hear it coming from his own mouth. "That is to say, we shouldn't rule out the possibility that it could easily be someone from any other house."

"Did Snape tell you all this?" asked Susan Bones, who was nervously chewing at the corners of her nails.

"Professor Snape," Harry heard Hermione mumble from behind him. He couldn't help but glance back at her, smiling at her peevish expression.

"He told me parts of it," Harry admitted. He didn't mention that he had recommended the reformation of the group. Little as he cared to admit it, such knowledge would most likely discourage many from attending.

"Then how do we know that it's true?"

Harry's eyes quickly snapped to the person who voiced the comment: Zacharias, once again. He set his jaw, not for the first time, and opened his mouth to retort nastily. The voice that came out, however, was not his own, and it took him a moment to realise that Hermione had stepped forward, and was glaring equally as coldly at the boy, answering for him.

"Professor Snape has never done anything to harm a student," she said evenly, her voice far more controlled than Harry suspected she felt at the moment. "He has never done anything but work to keep this school safe, and to make sure that all of you idiots get something accomplished in your time here. He may not be nice, and he might not like most of you much, but that doesn't erase the fact that in terms of good and evil, he is on our side."

"He's still a git," muttered Zacharias, to which Ron responded:

"Well, that's got nothing to do with it!"

"Get out," Harry suddenly said to the Hufflepuff, who immediately took on an expression of incredulousness.

"You can't tell me—"

"GET OUT!" Harry bellowed, throwing his arm out to the side and pointing at the door. Silence fell over the room, and Zacharias slowly rose from his spot on the floor, seemingly astonished by Harry's outburst. Without another word, he moved to the door, and gave only one glance back at the rest of the students before walking through it.

"Now," Harry said icily, addressing the remainder of the group. "Does anyone else have anything to say about my father, or is that matter settled?"

There was a noticeable jolt that occurred for several of the students at Harry's use of the word "father". Word had traveled, yes, but very rarely did Harry or Snape display their relationship for anyone to see, neither through actions nor through words. What Harry said, however, confirmed for many what they had only heard about until this date.

"Good," Harry said after a moment, ignoring the jarred expressions that he saw. "Then I think we've covered all that we need to for today. If any of you have questions, you may ask me, but be careful about where we are and who is around us at the time. You'll be alerted when we decide a time for another meeting."

Harry's gaze remained locked with the wall opposite him as the students quietly filed out of the room. He didn't want to observe their expressions; didn't want to be able to read what was blatantly obvious—they didn't really know who he was anymore. Not at this point in his life.

xxx

Harry's return to the common room did not go as planned. Somewhat uncharacteristically, his feet carried him not to the Gryffindor Tower, but to the library instead. Of course, they did not do so of their own volition, but Harry wasn't sure when he had made the decision to do late night research rather than going to sleep: sleep that was desperately needed.

The meeting had spiked even his own curiosity, however, on the subject of the potion. He had realized on some level that even if someone had asked him to explain everything that was going on, he would have found it difficult to do so. As informed as his father had attempted to keep him, Harry had never been briefed on the intricate details of the situation. He supposed that no one had figured this necessary. On that note, he found himself a bit resentful of the others involved. While good to know that help was available, there was a certain sense of debilitation that occurred with the realization that everyone else was doing the work because they did not think him capable of it.

Well, if Harry could not participate at this point in time, he was at least going to make sure he was educated on the topic. Choosing a table in one of the well-lit areas in the library, he placed his bag in a chair and moved to peruse the many shelves of books for the tome.

xxx

Severus felt as though every night that passed was merely a repeat of the night before. He had to wonder to himself when his life had become so monotonous—at one time, he would have been answering summons, putting his life on the line for what seemed to be a good cause—though his decision to spy had less to do with the saving of the world and more to with his disinclination to participate in any sort of future where Voldemort had more power. Now, however, he was finishing up yet another turn in the constant cycle of homework grading and getting ready to settle down with a drink and possibly, if he could keep his eyes open for long enough, this month's release of "The Practical Potioneer."

With a half-filled glass of good cognac and his magazine in hand, he settled into his chair and dimmed all of the lights except the one nearest. He swirled the deep amber liquid in his glass and watched it roll around the edges, then lifted it to his lips and took a long sip. Setting it down on the small table next to him, he opened his magazine with a snap and began reading.

Just when Severus was beginning to enjoy the same monotony that he had thought of so negatively early in the evening, the sound of interruption came in the form of knocking at his door.

Severus' head fell back against the chair, and he heard himself groaning in frustration. The temptation to ignore whoever was standing outside at eleven o' clock at night was an appealing one, but sadly one that he could not give in to.

With a glower on his face, he rose and stalked to the door. Opening it just a crack, he peered out into the hallway, eyes narrowing.

Standing there, face highlighted by the stream of faint light issuing from the ajar door, was Harry and behind him, with a nasty smile and glittering eyes, Filch.

"Argus," Severus greeted, lifting an eyebrow, and sparing Harry only a glance. "How may I be of service?"

"Found this one wandering through the restricted section of the library," Filch informed him almost gleefully. "I thought you would have a special interest in taking care of him, his being yours and all."

"Indeed," Severus responded flatly, ignoring Harry's yelp of surprise when he stuck his hand through the crack in the door and pulled him in by the front of his shirt. "Thank you, Argus. Trust that this will be dealt with in anappropriate manner."

Before Filch had time to respond, Severus snapped the door shut and rounded on Harry, who immediately threw his hands up and opened his mouth to explain.

"I swear, I—"

"Sit down," Severus said, gesturing towards the couch.

"But I—"

"You aren't in trouble," Severus told him tiredly, moving to his own chair. "Sit."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling slightly silly. "Alright then."

Severus waited for Harry to be seated, and then picked up his glass of cognac again. "So," he began casually, watching Harry out of the corners of his eyes as he took a sip, "would you like to explain to me what you were doing in the restricted section of the library?"

Harry hesitated, and then asked, "Are you sure I'm not in trouble? Because it sounds like I am—"

"Feeling guilty about something, perhaps?"

"No…" Harry replied.

"I'm merely interested in your explanation," Severus assured him. "I'm sure you had a good reason for being there."

"Why are you suddenly giving me the benefit of the doubt?" Harry asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

Severus merely smirked, and lifted his shoulders.

"Fine," Harry said, seeing that Severus was not going to elaborate. "I just wanted to read the text on the potion that we're working on—I just wanted to be as informed as everyone else involved."

"Foolish boy," Severus breathed, rising and moving to the bookshelves. "You could have come and asked me."

"I didn't want to bother you."

"Well, you never do, and yet somehow, you manage to interrupt my evening despite all of your best intentions," Severus reminded him dryly. "Here," he said, thrusting the book into Harry's hands. "Just see that it is returned in the same condition."

"I will," Harry mumbled.

"You really should be careful about being out after curfew," Severus told him as the boy placed the book in his bag. "As I told you just last night. The rules do still apply to you, even if you have a substantial reason for being out after hours."

"I realise that," Harry replied grudgingly, sitting back in his chair.

"I am merely reminding you," Severus told him. "You should remember that I am still a teacher at this school, and do not condone the breaking of the rules. Don't let it happen again."

"And if I do?" Harry questioned.

"Expulsion, of course," Severus replied soberly, titling his glass to his lips and finishing off the last of what the glass contained.

"That's rather harsh," Harry commented, a wry smile taking the place of his frown.

Severus shrugged. "I make no apologies; it's the way I am."

"And I'm supposed to just accept that?"

"Quite right, you will."

Harry chuckled lightly, and then glanced at the time. "I should probably be getting back to my common room."

Severus followed Harry's gaze to the clock, and nodded. "Yes, you should," he agreed, rising concurrently with Harry. "I'll walk you back."

"I'm pretty sure I can make it back to the common room on my own," Harry said flippantly, adjusting his bag on his shoulder and moving towards the door.

"Harry," Severus breathed exasperatedly, stepping after him. "If Argus Filch shows up at my door again with you in hand, I am going to be more than annoyed—with both of you. Allow me to escort you; it will save us both the trouble."

Harry shrugged and stepped out into the hallway, pausing there while Severus closed the door. When his father began walking again, he did the same.

"Thanks for the book, by the way," Harry said after a long, quiet moment, raising his eyes (with a certain amount of futility, due to the limited amount of light in the corridor) to meet his father's.

"Of course," Severus responded, inclining his head. "In the future, at least attempt to ask me first before you take it upon yourself to go rummaging through the restricted section."

"Where's the adventure in that?" Harry asked jokingly, and Severus rolled his eyes.

"Gryffindors," he muttered under his breath; his peeved expression broke when he felt Harry reach over and hit him lightly on the arm.

"Slytherins," Harry muttered in retaliation.

Their walk continued in silence until they reached the second floor of the castle, at which point Severus' thoughtful murmur caught Harry's attention.

"Something to say?" Harry asked, careful of his tone. He didn't want to sound too intrusive, or possibly disrespectful.

"What?"

"You said 'hmm'," Harry pointed out rather obviously. "That usually means you have something on your mind."

"Ah, that," was Severus' reply, and he apparently fell back into thought, for he didn't respond.

"So do you?"

"What?"

"Do you have something to say?"

"Harry, will you be quiet for one moment and let a man think?" Severus snapped, his eyes flickering to the ceiling.

"Just asking," Harry muttered, before falling quiet again.

Harry decided quickly that he would not be the one to attempt conversation again. He treaded along beside Severus, turning over unimportant thoughts and all the while waiting expectantly for Severus to finish his cycle of thoughts and voice whatever he was pondering.

"I've been thinking, Harry—"

"I've noticed," Harry interrupted.

"Do you want me to finish my thought or not?" Severus asked with a glare, wondering just when he had begun to tolerate such insolence, and wondering if it was too late to correct such a habit.

Harry quickly shut his mouth and nodded, trying hard not to smile.

"I have plans to visit the house this weekend; I want to finish the third floor, but it will require a trip into town and quite a bit of work. Would you be interested in accompanying me?"

Of course! Harry wanted to exclaim; but one thing stopped him. Things were settling down and getting back to normal now that he and his father had returned to Hogwarts. Would returning to the house set them back again?

"Well…" Harry started hesitantly. He stopped when he saw the look of immediate regret for asking on Severus' face.

"It's perfectly fine if you don't wish to," Severus said gruffly, waving a dismissive hand.

"No, I want to—" Harry quickly objected. "I just—" but then he looked again at Severus, and he couldn't refuse. He felt too guilty. "I'll go. I'll just finish my charms essay on Thursday instead of Friday," he lied.

"Well, if you can manage," Severus replied. "But of course, if you don't have time to get it done, remember that your studies should come first."

"Alright, that sounds fine," Harry agreed, relaxing slightly. Severus seemed to understand his indecision—perhaps not the reason for it, but at least he recognized that it was present—and had provided him with a way out should he choose to remain at Hogwarts.

"This appears to be your stop," Severus said a moment later as they approached the portrait hole, where the fat lady was snoozing contentedly.

"That it does," Harry agreed. "So, I'll see you Friday if I don't see you tomorrow?" Of course, he did have plans to see Severus tomorrow. It was the man's birthday, after all. However, Harry had no intention of letting him know this.

"Early Saturday will suffice," Severus said. "Unless you wanted to leave Friday."

"Might be nice," said Harry, thinking of his rather large bed there and shrugging. There were aspects of staying in a home as opposed to a dormitory that were rather comforting.

"Well, yes, Friday then," Severus amended. "Meet me in my office at seven."

"Okay," murmured Harry as a yawn escaped him. He blinked away the resulting tears and shook his head.

"Go to bed," Severus commanded gently.

Harry nodded in agreement. "'Night," he said to Severus, who softened his expression in return.

With an utterance of Jobberknoll, he was off to bed.

xxx

"So what are you going to do?" asked Hermione, easily stepping to the side, away from Harry's lazily cast hex; she half-heartedly aimed her wand at him in return. Both she and Harry had mastered today's particular lesson some time ago, and were now passing the time while Moody guided the other students toward perfection.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "It's too last minute to—Protego!—buy him anything. I couldn't get to Hogsmeade without him knowing."

"Well, why keep it a secret?" Hermione questioned by way of proposal. "It's no secret to him that his birthday is tonight, you realise."

"Yes, but he doesn't know that I know," Harry explained, causing Hermione to frown. "You know?"

"Harry, I'm going to stop you before you start rambling," Hermione said seriously, raising her eyebrows.

"Hermione," Harry half-whinged, dropping his wand hand to his side. "Please, just help me figure something out. I'm no good at this."

"Apparently!" Hermione exclaimed, as Moody barked "Constant Vigilance!" at Harry as he passed behind him. Groaning, Harry raised his wand again and continued.

"Oof!" Hermione puffed as Harry's curse came harder than she had expected, causing the shielding charm she had erected to lapse slightly, sending her to the ground.

"Sorry," said Harry, wincing. "Didn't mean to do that."

"No, it's fine," Hermione replied breathily, quickly pushing herself to her feet. "Anyway; why don't you try making him something?"

"What, like a picture frame decorated with dried macaroni noodles?" Harry asked dryly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Obviously not."

"Well, what does one make for Severus Snape?"

"You would know better than I would!" replied Hermione, throwing her hands out at her sides for emphasis.

"You lend too much credit to my powers of perception," Harry responded.

"My, you have been spending a lot of time around him," said Hermione. "You're starting to sound like him a bit."

"Don't say that," Harry groaned, quickly raising his wand as Moody stepped by again.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," Hermione amended, lifting her shoulders. "You're still nicer, at least."

"I hope so!"

"Well, what about a cake?" Hermione proposed.

"A cake?"

"Everyone likes cake, Harry."

"Even grumpy Potions Masters?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Even them, I'm sure," Hermione chuckled, giving Harry a sympathetic look.

"I don't even know how to bake a cake," Harry said, half to himself. "Well, I mean, I do with a Muggle oven… but with magic?"

"It's not much different," Hermione told him. "We learned about this in Muggle Studies, third year. You could just use the room of requirement."

"So you know how to do it, then?" asked Harry.

"Well, yes—"

"Want to help?" Harry asked, smiling.

"Harry, I've got an essay to write—"

"Aren't I more important?" asked Harry, pouting.

"Well—I suppose, but to bake a cake, Harry?"

"It won't take long! We could just do it after class—"

"But we have another class—"

"Skive off!"

"Harry," Hermione interjected severely. "I don't skive."

"Hermione," was all Harry said after that, tilting his head to the side and giving her a mixed expression of annoyance, disbelief, and amusement. "Please."

"Ugh, Harry," Hermione growled, throwing her head back and looking at the ceiling. "Fine," she said, looking back at him and glaring. "But only after my last class. Meet me up by the room of requirement, and don't be late."

"Yes ma'am," Harry replied, saluting her mockingly. He could tell by her expression that what she responded with was meant to be scathing, but the sound of the bell spared him that particular grief.

xxx

It was late that night when Harry finally made his way down the corridors in the dungeon, holding a three layered chocolate cake in one hand and picking bits of batter out of his hair with the other. Apparently, baking a cake using magic was not as simple as Hermione had made it out to be.

Harry was trying not to regret not having done something more exciting for his father's birthday. He did realize that, since Severus had not even mentioned his birthday at all, he probably did not want a big deal made out of it. Still, Harry felt it was his duty to at least recognize this particular date, even if no one else did.

Harry stopped first at Severus' office, knowing the man's proclivity toward late night work sessions. What he found upon arrival, however, was a closed door without light streaming out from underneath. An unanswered knock confirmed his suspicions. The office was indeed vacant.

Harry quite naturally assumed that if Severus was not in his office, his quarters were the place to find him. Beginning to feel a bit silly for roaming through the Slytherin dungeons with a daintily frosted cake, he quickened his pace in that direction.

He luckily reached Severus' quarters without being seen. Once again, however, he found that the space between the door and the grey stone of the floor was darkened. He knocked at the door anyway, and received no answer. Shrugging slightly, and deciding he had nothing to lose, he touched his fingers to the door's handle and gently pushed it open. On some level, he knew that if Severus were there, he might not be pleased that Harry had simply let himself in without being expected to do so. However, he was sure that once Severus learned of his intentions, his irritation would ebb away; and furthermore, Harry did not want to walk back through the dungeons and up to the common room with this cake in his hands. He had come too far for that.

The rooms were darkened throughout, to Harry's disappointment. He had half expected to come upon Severus sitting at his desk, with only a small area lit: enough light by which he could grade his seemingly bottomless pile of papers, or read through a book, as he often did. He found no such thing, though. Severus' quarters were dark and hollow and cold, and Harry suddenly felt invasive for being there.

His retreat was speedy, because he suddenly felt as though he was being watched; like Severus knew, without being present, that Harry was there. He rushed back out into the hallway, cake still in hand, and turned around to close the door—

"Potter?"

Harry froze. Hand still outstretched towards the doorknob, he turned his head slowly to observe McGonagall standing there, holding her wand and watching him with a perplexed expression.

"What are you doing in Professor Snape's quarters? And… is that—a cake?"

"Erm," said Harry, looking down at his hands. "Yes."

"Are you stealing a cake from Professor Snape's rooms, Potter?" asked McGonagall, appalled.

"No!" Harry quickly objected, throwing out his hand in protestation, and almost dropping the cake in the process. He fumbled a bit and paused to steady it with his other hand, and then looked back up at his Head of House. "I made this cake."

McGonagall frowned.

"Today is his birthday," Harry explained, feeling rather dumb. "So I made him a cake."

"Oh," said McGonagall, apparently not expecting this explanation at all. She narrowed her eyes a bit and looked him up and down.

"I'm not lying!"

"No one said you were, Potter," McGonagall responded.

"Well… it seemed like you were thinking it."

"Apparently, you are no legilimens like your father," McGonagall chuckled, apparently beginning to glean some amusement from this situation.

"Yeah, well," Harry muttered, beginning to feel his face heat up. "Do you know where he is?"

"An Order meeting," McGonagall told him, for the first time looking somewhat sympathetic. "I just left from it—he'll still be a while."

"Oh, I see," Harry said, unable to keep that air of disappointment out of his voice.

"He did tell me you would be spending some time together this weekend though," McGonagall said, and Harry was surprised to hear that she had softened her tone a bit. Harry looked up at her questioningly, and she explained, "Since I am your Head of House, I'm to be notified when you're taken out of the school for a period of time. He did seem pleased, though, if I know Severus. And, somewhat unfortunately," she said dryly, "I do."

Harry wasn't quite sure how to respond to this without seeming childishly hopeful or cheeky, so he settled for a pleased facial expression and nothing more. McGonagall seemed appeased by this, as she settled her hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You should get back up to your common room," she told him, patting him on the arm and removing her hand. "I've already had a complaint about you from Filch this week, you realise."

"I realise," Harry mumbled, remembering that night with a twinge of annoyance.

McGonagall followed Harry through and out of the dungeons, and made to part with him at the stairs. "Straight to your common room, Potter, remember that."

Harry grinned and rolled his eyes. "Where else would I go, Professor?"

"I can only imagine," responded McGonagall, sighing and shaking her head.

Harry watched as the Professor turned and moved down the hallway, and then began to ascend quickly up the stairs. If he were caught out after curfew tonight, after all, it was just him and Filch, and that was a fate he did not wish for himself.

xxx

If not for the important context involved in the meeting, Severus would have felt mildly perturbed at being asked to stay when others were being granted the freedom to leave for the night. Because the matters at hand involved him directly, however, the invitation made him feel rather useful.

As a majority of the gathering dispersed and cleared from the room, Severus realised that the remaining group was smaller than he had expected it to be. He sat back in his chair and observed his residual compatriots: only Dumbledore, Lupin, Tonks, and Shacklebolt remained. He narrowed his eyes. Though they had been briefed on the situation during the meeting—the possibility that Dumbledore had found another avenue by which he could monitor Voldemort's actions—he could find no logical reason for why these select individuals had been chosen to stay. It was an unexpected choice for Dumbledore to make. Gazing around the table, he realised that the sentiment was shared.

"Friends," Dumbledore intoned as the last stragglers exited the room and it finally became silent. He nodded in greeting to each of them, his expression solemn. "It seems that you may be confused about your purpose here. I would like to assure you that any questions on that topic will be answered shortly.

"I find myself in nearly the same position as I had been in many years ago, and have decided that the best course of action I can take is to repeat the procedure I followed then. I was approached recently by a former student. It seems he joined the Death Eaters only a year after he graduated. Like many young men, however, he apparently did not realise at the time what he was agreeing to, and now seeks to make penance for his actions. He has agreed to bring me information in return for a declaration of his innocence after the war."

"Who was the student?" asked Severus with a contemplative frown, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed and his chin rested on his knuckles.

"Branson Kinnaird," Dumbledore told him, shifting his gaze. "Perhaps you remember him? He did ask after you, actually."

"Of course," Severus replied slowly, nodding. "I mentored him in Potions throughout his entire seventh year. Very ambitious—adept at the craft." He lifted an eyebrow, and continued, "I am assuming he never pursued that line of work?"

"No, I suppose not," Dumbledore answered.

"Waste of my time," Severus said in a low, harsh tone.

"Perhaps not," Dumbledore replied mildly. "Should he prove to have noble intentions, I am considering offering him a Potions position at Hogwarts."

Severus drew his eyebrows further together. "And what does that mean for me?"

"You have been interested in the Defence position for quite some time…"

Shocked, Severus cleared his throat, and answered, "Yes, I have."

"But now is not the time to discuss such a possibility," Dumbledore said abruptly, returning his attention to the others and ignoring Severus' subsequent huff of irritation. "For the moment, I am more concerned with first investigating his loyalty, and secondly, ensuring that all our affairs are in order. Tonks, Kingsley—I need only your promise that, should everything go as planned, you will testify before the Wizengamot that Mr. Kinnaird is indeed on the right side of all this."

Curt, professional nods answered Dumbledore's proposition, and he continued.

"Remus, your job is a bit more entailed. I believe you are the perfect candidate to track Mr. Kinnaird; I want to be assured of both his proficiency as a spy and of his dedication to our cause."

"Albus," said Severus as Lupin nodded in response, leaning forward in his chair. "When you refer to the previous, similar situation, you are referring to me, correct?"

"I am, Severus."

"I see," Severus said shortly, the twitching muscle in his jaw giving away the emotion that his uncharacteristically calm voice concealed. "Do you mean to tell me that was being tracked for a time?"

"A very short time," Dumbledore immediately responded. His expression was firm, clearly stating that now was not the time to begin an argument over what was past. "We had several close calls with you, however," he informed Severus. "You are not an easy man to track."

"Of course not," Severus replied grudgingly, sitting back again. "That is the reason I'm alive."

Dumbledore's gaze flickered to him, but he failed to respond to or acknowledge Severus' statement.

"How long do you plan to track Kinnaird?" asked Shackelbolt, interrupting the imminent silence.

"For now, the amount of time is indeterminable," Dumbledore responded. "My only objective is to be assured that he is trustworthy before I begin relying so much on the information he provides us with."

"Are you sure that he will be able to handle this?" asked Severus, a scathing note to his voice. "There is more to this sort of job than relaying messages back and forth. Does Kinnaird have the spine to stand up against Voldemort in such a way? Does he have the skill?"

"He can be trained," replied Dumbledore.

"Well, if I had known I could be so easily replaced, I would have quit some time ago," Severus remarked in a controlled but heated tone, rising from his seat.

"You are not being replaced—where are you going?"

"Back to Hogwarts, naturally," Severus told him, moving towards the door. "Where else would I go?"

"Severus—"

"I have lessons to prepare for, Albus, and the hour is growing late. Is there really anything left that needs to be accomplished that cannot be done without my presence?"

"Perhaps not, but—"

"I'd thought not," Severus interrupted. "Enjoy the rest of this meeting."

Before Dumbledore could get another word in, Severus had left through the door, closing it behind him with a snap of finality.

xxx

Throughout the course of the day on Friday, Harry did not once catch sight of his father. He kept his eyes peeled in the corridors, but there was no sign of him. He tried several times to make his way down to his office, but his time slots were never wide enough. He considered skipping his lunch, but Hermione reminded him of several pages of homework he had not yet completed which would be due later that day. Every time he developed a new plan, his obligations to school countered his determination.

So, Harry decided, he would have to find a new way to celebrate Severus' birthday. He finally let Ron have at the cake while they worked on their homework in the common room—though it had gone a bit stale by then—and he immediately began planning the dinner he would have Tibby prepare for them while they went to town this weekend.

Harry took the time between the end of classes and dinner to complete his homework for the weekend and pack what he would need to take with him to the house. He chose several items that he supposed could be left there, thinking it might be a good idea to start building up a small collection there so that he couldn't need to pack every time he wanted to visit with Severus. By the time Ron came up to remind him that it was time to go down the Great Hall, Harry was packed and ready for his departure at seven.

As he followed Ron to several empty seats at the Gryffindor table, Harry noticed that Severus had neglected to arrive for dinner. He felt slightly uneasy about this absence; had he been called away on some business and neglected to tell Harry? It was perhaps a silly conclusion to jump to, but Harry was in the habit of expecting disappointments.

"I'm sure he's just finishing some tasks that would otherwise be left unaccomplished before you leave," Hermione assured him upon his voicing this concern. Her words were accompanied by Ron's vigorous nodding, and Harry tried to look appeased.

"Perhaps I should just go check in with him," said Harry contemplatively.

"You need to eat," Hermione told him. "You already neglected lunch to complete homework; you can't miss another meal."

Sullenly, Harry agreed, but resolved to eat as quickly as possible and make his way down to the dungeons immediately after.

xxx

Apparently, Harry thought as he made his way down to the dungeons, concentrating on keeping his trunk hovering midair, he had underestimated his friends' ability to detain him. Not only had he been forced to sit through Dumbledore's warning to the student body that aurors would now be patrolling the castle, but it had taken him well over twenty minutes to convince his friends that one plate of food was enough and that no, he was not losing weight again. Well-placed as their concern was, he was finding it more and more annoying as the year went on.

Harry guided his trunk to a gentle landing, and approached Severus' door. He could see light through the space between the floor and the door; this was promising. He rapped quickly on the door and stood back. The immediate crash following was not promising. Neither were the heavy, rapidly approaching footsteps that came soon after.

Harry took another step back.

The door swung open violently, and Severus' voice immediately came in the same fashion. "Albus, I told you—"

Harry winced as Severus appeared in the doorway, and the dark man's eyes fell on him.

"Oh, it's only you," he said flatly.

Before Harry had a chance to respond, Severus had whipped around and headed back into his chambers. As he had left the door open, Harry assumed he was meant to follow.

"I'm assuming that trunk means you are ready to leave?" Severus asked, nodding towards the object at Harry's feet. Harry nodded cautiously, unsure of how to react to the man.

"My apologies for a rather abrupt greeting," Severus said, apparently aware of Harry's state of unease. "Albus has arrived at my door several times today; I'm becoming tired of his badgering. We should leave as soon as possible."

"Anything important?" Harry asked, watching as Severus shrank his trunk

"It's not at the moment, but may be in the future," Severus told him. "I assure you, I will make sure you are enlightened as soon as I am sure the news is noteworthy."

"I know," Harry responded; the hint of annoyance in Severus' voice told him he was tired of reassuring Harry that he would not be kept in the dark. Severus' eyes flickered to him, betraying a moment of mild disbelief, and then the expression was gone again. "I do trust you, you know," Harry told him a moment later.

"That is… rewarding to hear," Severus said restrainedly. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but the moment was gone mere seconds later as Severus straightened and announced his readiness to depart. Somehow feeling guilty for letting his opportunity to reveal his mounting levels of faith in his father to slip away, Harry regretfully nodded and followed him out the door.

Conversation was limited as they made their way through the castle; Severus seemed intent on winding through the halls as quickly as possible and reaching the doors before Dumbledore reached them. This determination only fed Harry's curiosity about what had transpired between the two, but he wasn't foolish enough to ask again. Instead, he merely followed until they reached the doors in the Great Hall, at which he finally questioned, "Why can't we just floo?"

"We are not going directly to the house," Severus answered him shortly, opening one of the heavy doors and waiting for Harry to step through.

"Oh? Where are we going?" asked Harry.

"I have a need to speak with Nymphadora Tonks," Severus answered him. "We will floo from her residence, but it would be unwise to connect to her location from Hogwarts."

Remembering the last time they had visited Tonks and recalling the use of the floo network, Harry frowned perplexedly. "But, why—"

"Circumstances have changed slightly," Severus told him shortly, his tone clipped and impatient. "It's best not to discuss such things here, however."

Harry fell quiet again, but could not help becoming slightly irritated by Severus' brush off. He felt he had a right to ask questions; he had a right to be informed. While on some level he knew that now was neither the time nor the place, he still wished for the satisfaction of having answers.

Trying to push away building feelings of resentment and reminding himself that Severus would most likely answer all of his questions later, Harry quietly followed his father to the gates. When they arrived there and had finally stepped outside of the Hogwarts grounds, Severus wordlessly gripped his arm and pulled him closer. There was little time to register what was about to happen; Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the shock of being compressed and tugged from the ground—

—with a loud pop, Harry and Severus reappeared in front of Tonks' modest, one levelled house. As his lungs expanded back to their normal size, he took in a relieving breath, and then moved to follow Severus, who was already on his way up to the door.

"Is she expecting us?" Harry asked as Severus knocked. He glanced around at the darkened windows, finding the general air of placidity surrounding the house suspicious, considering who normally dwelled in it.

Severus nodded curtly. "I sent word to her several hours ago."

"Then where—"

Before Harry could finish his sentence, two successive pops, not unlike those he and Severus had created moments earlier, sounded behind them.

"Oi, that was a trip," Tonks breathed as she braced herself with one arm against Kingsley, who was standing beside her with far more composure.

Harry glanced up at Severus, who had a deeply set frown on his face.

"Sorry, Professor," Tonks said as she moved forward, unsurprised by their presence. Though her tone would have sounded light to the casual observer, there was something heavier about her step and more somber about her face than usual.

"Is everything in order?" asked Severus, stepping forward to meet Tonks.

Forehead crinkling, Tonks shrugged. "We should get inside," she said, looking around at the empty streets as though she were suspecting to catch sight of unwanted company. "Kingsley, you'll accompany us?"

"For a short while," he answered, following them inside. "There'll be a great deal of paperwork waiting for me when I arrive back at the ministry; I should begin working on it soon."

Within moments of stepping into her house, Tonks had lit several lamps in her sitting room; the room was dim, matching the stoic expressions of those within it. Harry looked at Severus, who nodded to his unasked question: he was allowed to stay.

"Sit," Tonks said in the same light but dampened tone she had used before; it was not a command as Severus would have given, nor a request, as Dumbledore would have done in such a situation. Harry and Severus took their places in two adjacent purple chairs with low backs, obviously meant to complement the royal purple swirls in the orange area rug covering a majority of the floor. Tonks and Kingsley sat opposite, both on either end of a rather squishy looking orange couch. The colour scheme of the room would have been outrageous in any other home, Harry thought on a whim, but here, he quite liked it.

Tonks took a long breath before speaking. "Someone stole all of Kinnaird's papers tonight—at the ministry."

"What do you mean?" Severus questioned immediately.

"I mean that every one of his records—his list of misdemeanours, his schooling records, his medical records—the very papers that prove he even exists: they're all gone."

"How could anyone have possibly taken all of those?" Harry questioned, paying little attention to the fact that he knew nothing of whom they spoke.

"Well, certainly," said Kingsley, "there are back-up papers in various departments of the ministry, as well as the places from which the records came. It was an elementary attempt at best, but the bothersome part is that anyone would even dare to try such a thing."

"But the question is: who would need to erase Kinnaird?" Tonks asked. Her question seemed rhetorical, however; she was speaking more to herself than to anyone else.

"Exactly," Kingsley said in a low voice.

"We're unsure which side would even—"

"You do realise, in all likelihood," Severus interrupted, annoyance evident in his voice, "that the chances of someone attempting to erase another individual are… unlikely at best. Anyone with the skill to accomplish such a theft would probably be gifted with the intelligence to realize that such a feat is nearly impossible."

"So who would want to learn so much about him, then?"

"Someone who wished to emulate him," Severus answered simply. "Do you forget the ordeal with Alastor Moody two years ago?"

"Would Voldemort really try the same trick twice?" Tonks asked. "Especially when it failed the first time?"

"The Dark Lo—Voldemort—is more arrogant than you realise. Also, you should be prepared for the fact that someone could be working independently on such a project."

Tonks and Kingsley both nodded, almost simultaneously, and the room fell quiet again. "We'll need to tell Dumbledore immediately, of course," Tonks said after a moment, to which Kingsley gave a consenting murmur.

"Yes," Severus agreed stiffly. Harry gave him a questioning look, but he merely shook his head once, and that again put an end to Harry's thoughts of asking what had happened. "But Nymphadora, Kingsley—I would advise you not to rely simply on the word of the Headmaster and Remus Lupin. You are both skilled Aurors, and more than capable of doing your own investigating, as well as making your own decisions."

"What do you mean, Severus?" asked Kingsley, and Tonks nodded beside him, urging Severus to elaborate.

"I mean," Severus said with a reserved air of bitterness, "that the Headmaster has a bad habit of withholding important information when it serves him best. I worry that he will show poor judgment when considering Kinnaird for this position; he is in such need of a spy that I feel he may… overlook… incongruencies in Kinnaird's behaviours and actions, which would otherwise point to his lack of dependability."

"And Lupin?"

"Is too close to Dumbledore to disagree with him."

Tonks' face was, for the first time Harry could really remember, completely stricken as she asked, "Has Dumbledore shown many errors in judgment before, concerning withholding important information?"

Severus' eyes just barely flickered to Harry, and he answered, "Yes; he certainly has."

xxx End Chapter 42 xxx


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