Harry blinked at Draco and yawned. He wanted to scratch his eyebrows, because they were itching like crazy, but didn’t want to give Draco the satisfaction of watching him squirm. Leave it to Draco to mess up the nicest nap-haze Harry had had in weeks.

"Unless you want a fat lip, Malfoy, you’d better move along," Ron warned, coming quickly to Harry’s defense.

"What are you, his body guard?" Draco sneered.

"No, but I am," Hermione growled from Harry’s other side.

"You don’t scare me," Malfoy snorted.

"I’d turn you into a newt, except I don’t want to offend newts everywhere. But you do make a fabulous ferret," Hermione added, giving a wicked grin. Malfoy gave Hermione the finger, and calmly strode off in the direction of the boys restroom. She shook her head at him.

"Someone ought to splinch him," Ron commented.

"And forget to put back a few parts," Hermione agreed. "Ready for next class?" she asked. Harry pointed towards the restroom. "Oh. Want me to come in and protect you from Malfoy?"

"No," Harry fussed. He pushed at his hair for the two hundredth time that morning. His scalp was itching nearly as badly as his brows were. Pomfrey had warned him not to scratch if he could help it, but it was like having sweat on top of his skin or things moving underneath.

"Malfoy might be lying in wait," she said.

"Herm, no," Harry replied. She leaned her shoulder against the wall and indicated she would wait right there by pointing a certain spot on the floor. Ron followed Harry inside, and collided with him when Potter stopped in his tracks just out of range of the swinging door.

"I’m trying to build a future here. That part of my life was years ago, Professor Snape, and I don’t appreciate having my past exhumed."

What was Professor Volkova doing in here?

"My friend was very thorough. You went through a lot of effort to hide your accomplishments, didn’t you? New country. New language. New occupation. If my contact wasn’t fluent in sixteen languages, I’d’ve never known. Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?" Snape’s acidic voice cut through the room. Harry blinked at them as they stood talking in front of joined sinks. Volkova was washing her hands.

"Thorough?" she huffed. "He was positively unscrupulous."

"There are doors on the cubicles," Severus pointed out. "She’s trying to get a rise out of me by following me in here, Potter. Don’t encourage her by giving her the reaction she wanted from me."

"I was talking to you, and you rudely walked away. I don’t appreciate being ignored. A small thing like a sign that says ‘boys’ isn’t going to put me off," Volkova replied to Snape’s barb. Harry continued to blink at her, his mouth open. "Perhaps we should continue this outside," she suggested to Snape.

"There’s nothing to continue," Snape barked back.

"Have you talked to McGonagall and Dumbledore?"

"Of course I have."

"I assure you that all my work experience is listed on my resume and Curriculum Vitae."

"Yes. McGonagall and Dumbledore already knew you had experience. They didn’t realize you’d been decorated for thirty six kills though!"

"You flatter me. I was only decorated for thirty five."

"Much to my surprise, Dumbledore considered the experience an asset to your job here."

"And why not? I have had practical experience in my field."

"One can have practical experience in the Dark Arts without succumbing to them," Snape growled.

"Of which you are such a shining example," Volkova cut.

"Unlike you, I make a clear distinction between being a vampire researcher and a vampire killer."

"I’ll bet you do," she retorted, her eyes glittering wickedly. "Would it bother you to know I found your defense techniques rather useful? They saved me more than once."

"I take rather a dim view of slaughtering any magical creature, and I think you’ll find the Headmaster has a very similar attitude. Should you find yourself with the urge to raise your kill percentage, you will refrain, or you will suffer my wrath."

"Given there is slim chance I will ever encounter a vampire here, I’d say you’re alarmed over nothing, Severus. Unless there’s something you need to say to me?"

"What I need to say to you doesn’t bear utterance in front of our students. Have a good day, Ms. Volkova, somewhere far from my sight."

Snape pushed his way between Harry and Ron on the way out, and Volkova watched him go, her smile glittering with satisfaction. Once Snape was gone, however, she seemed to snap out of her mood. She faced Harry and Ron, and her expression softened with innocent concern.

"Sorry for the intrusion. The house elves are to be commended. The floors are spotless in here."

On light steps, Volkova exited the room, but not without sliding a hand briefly over Harry’s arm. Ron nudged Harry, and he finally moved.

"So, Volkova’s a pervert AND a vampire killer," Weasley said, dodging into the stall next to his friend. "Wait till we tell Hermione about that."

When Harry emerged from the cubicle to wash his hands, he found Malfoy waiting at the sinks, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Harry nonchalantly brushed through them to reach the soap and water.

"You’re lucky Professor Snape has had experience with burn victims," Malfoy told him flatly. "If he hadn’t been on hand, you’d’ve been scarred for life."

"What a tragedy that would be," Harry muttered.

"He should have left you the way you were. It could only have improved your face," Malfoy grinned. Harry’s lightning scar was annoyed but not throbbing, so he concluded Malfoy wanted a little chit-chat and not a physical confrontation. "Why were you afraid to use the restroom in front of Professor Volkova? I mean, she did use to teach at an all-boys school. She’s accustomed to seeing them in various states of undress. Does the idea of her seeing you starkers bother you and your boyfriend Weasley?" Malfoy taunted.

Ron emerged from his cubicle, straightening his robe. He followed Harry’s path to the sink.

"Are you and I still going out?" Harry asked Ron, pretending confusion.

"No. We broke up months ago," Ron replied.

"It’s all about the sex now, isn’t it?" Harry asked.

"You do look smashing in fishnets," Ron told him.

"Do I really?" Harry grinned.

"But it’s your Quidditch uniform I go for," Ron nodded.

"You swing both ways, Potter?" Malfoy cackled. Clearly he had missed the heavy layer of sarcasm that Ron and Harry had been applying to their words. "You’re a double agent? Or are you still in that sticky experimentation phase? Don’t think no one’s noticed how Volkova’s always got her hands all over you in Dark Arts, and in the halls, and in the study room, and in the dining hall."

This was jealousy, Harry suddenly understood. He tilted his head to one side, and gave Malfoy a knowing smile. Malfoy had a crush on Volkova? Somehow, Harry could see them together. They might be tailor-made for each other even. Both were icy blonds with a thirst for power.

"Don’t think I didn’t notice what you did with my Transfiguration notes. When you graffiti my things in the future, Malfoy, at least do spell the words correctly," Harry mocked.

"There are two l’s in fellatio," Ron smiled. "It took us several days to figure out what you meant."

"If Hermione hadn’t been on the other side of the table, we’d’ve never understood," Harry interjected.

"The stick figures were a big help," Ron put in.

"Yes, but obviously not based on actual experience," Harry said, giving Draco a blunt smile.

"For the record, Malfoy, I prefer to top," Ron added, putting his arm around Harry’s waist and escorting him out of the room. Crabbe and Goyle watched Ron and Harry, and then waited to see how Draco would react. Malfoy slammed angrily out into the hallway, walking on ahead of Ron and Harry towards their next class. Crabbe and Goyle trailed behind, glowering at Harry.

"I thought you’d gone for a bloody swim!" Hermione exclaimed. "Are you done yet? We’re going to be late."

"It’s Potions next," Ron reminded her. "No point in rushing in there."

"Yeah. Professor Snape’s not happy unless he can dock me a couple points here and there once a week. I’d be depriving him of one of the few joys in his life if I showed up on time every day," Harry said.

A warm hand cupped the back of his neck as Hermione and Ron withdrew in alarm. Harry quickly pulled his bag in front of his body, because his cock was reacting favorably to the restraining grip. Except Harry knew this wasn’t Volkova, because there was no sweet smell and soft skin. These were the commanding talons of a dangerous bird of prey, definitely a man’s grip. Oh bother. How embarrassing!

"Mr. Potter. I’m thrilled you’re concerned about my happiness, but it would please me much more if you showed more than a passing interest in your academic future. Your OWL’s are behind you, but your NEWT’s are ahead. I’d like to go to my death knowing I managed to grind some knowledge into that thick skull of yours, at least the ability to tell time."

"Yes, sir," Harry quickly intoned. The hand remained on his scruff, nails digging in. Snape was escorting him to the side of the corridor, keeping him a few feet behind Ron and Hermione, who kept looking back in worry.

"What you heard between myself and Professor Volkova, I must ask you not to repeat," Snape whispered in Harry’s ear.

"Yes, sir." Harry bit his mouth, feeling tickles of heat in his face and down his spine.

"Especially the part of suffering my wrath. It was childish of me."

"Yes, sir."

"Contrary to what Ms. Volkova might think, her skills as a vampire hunter are a cause for great alarm."

"Only if she runs into your wife," Harry tested in a quick whisper. Severus pushed him against the wall and cornered him with an arm on either side. Students in the hallway stopped and stared, and Hermione had to hold Ron to keep him from rushing back over.

"Foolish boy. That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days," Severus whispered back. Harry steeled himself, and lifted his chin defiantly at Snape. The Potions Master was smiling down at him, his dark eyes narrowed to slits.

"Too late," Harry murmured.

"Would you like a detention, Mr. Potter? Perhaps I can find a way to keep your mouth so occupied it won’t have time to get you in trouble," Snape suggested. Harry shivered. The mental image of being on his hands and knees in front of Snape went straight to Harry’s groin. If Snape said one more deep, sibilant word this close to him, Harry was going to need to change his clothes. Harry licked his mouth involuntarily, and Severus raised a brow at him. Was he enjoying this tension as much as Harry was, Potter wondered? Or perhaps he was reading Harry’s mind? Oh dear. "Well, boy? Cat got your tongue? If not a detention, how about a nice mockingbird spell while I recite Gray’s Anatomy?" Snape tested.

"No, thank you, sir," Harry whispered.

"Take yourself to class, Mr. Potter. One peep out of you in Potions, and I’ll vox reflecto you so fast it will make your head spin. Is that clear?"

Harry swallowed and nodded, trying to look humble as possible while Snape glowered down at him.

"I see your brows grew back," Severus murmured, his nose mere inches from Harry’s. Potter puzzled over the non sequitur and waited. "Such remarkable regenerative powers."

"Thank you, sir," he whispered.

"It’s the phoenix tears, you know? Once they’re in your blood, they never disappear. No wonder our dear Volkova put you at the top of her list," Snape continued.

"Top of what list?" Harry stammered.

"Your tie is crooked, Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape announced loudly. He released Harry, pushing him with a stumble towards the Potions classroom. Harry sprinted to his chair and sat down, heaving for breath and beet-red. Ron patted Harry sympathetically, and aimed deadly stares at Snape all through class.

"Yeah. Hedwig clobbered me with it," Harry said.

"Your brows have grown back already," Lupin asked, rubbing his thumb under Harry’s glass frames. "I’m glad you’re all right. I’d hate to shove off with you being under the weather."

"Shove off?"

"I’m about to go on a mission. Nothing to worry about. We can discuss it later," Remus said as Harry frowned and had a terrible feeling of déjà vù. "It’s nothing, Harry. I’ll be gone a couple months. Back before December."

"Months," Harry complained. "Where are you going? What are you going to be doing?"

"Nothing dangerous," Lupin laughed, and Harry could feel in his bones that Remus was lying to him. "All I can say is it’s business, and hush," Remus added.

"Oh, all right," Harry said, staring down.

"Where’s Tall, Dark, and Snapish?" Ron asked.

"Haven’t seen him," Lupin said. "It’s not like him to be late though. You tell him 7 pm and he’ll be there at 6:59 with change to spare."

"You could set a clock by him," Ron agreed.

"Should we go on in?" Harry motioned to the Potions classroom.

"I knocked. No one’s home," Lupin informed them.

"We could just go in," Ron said.

 "Um, no," Lupin advised. "Not after the roving fancy incident. Dumbledore told me all about that. What if Snape’s right, and Volkova is out to get him?"

"She could be," Harry agreed.

"She’s probably not the only one," Ron muttered.

"Chances are, she’s moved up the food chain from roving fancies," Lupin chuckled. Harry leaned against the wall next to Remus as Ron wandered up and down the darkening corridor. "Don’t worry, Harry. It’s a reconnaissance mission. It’s nothing."

"Yeah, sure," Harry said. "People keep dying around me. Maybe you’re safer the further away you get," Harry moped. Lupin ruffled the back of his head.

"Don’t talk that way," he scolded tenderly.

"My parents, Sirius, Cedric. Loads of others. I’m the Typhoid Mary of the wizarding world. Yeah. You would take a long holiday if you were smart."

"Harry, that’s enough," Lupin said. "Now, to practical matters. I’ve put up wards around the house in Hogsmeade. No one will be able to get in but you. If you get the chance, you might try and put some furniture in your room there. Go shopping, will ya?"

"Do you have enough Wolf’s Bane?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Severus brewed me plenty of flasks to take along."

"Did you pack warm socks?"

"Yes."

"Emergency portkey?"

"Emergency what?" Remus’s eyes went wide.

"I was thinking we could work on it. Something you could carry, something ordinary and casual, but it could be an emergency portkey if you needed one."

Lupin drew a pocket watch from his cloak.

"Where is that man?" he mumbled. Ron skulked back to them as Lupin put his watch away.

"Weird shadows in this place at night," Ron commented.

The hair on Harry’s neck stood up. On the floor, he saw the distinct shadow of a human shape eclipsing the torchlight from the other hallway. He stared upwards and saw nothing. When he ran to the place on the floor, the shadow was gone.

"What is it?" Ron asked, immediately at his side. Although Harry was supposed to come alone, Ron had insisted on accompanying Harry, in case Snape was still feeling in a peevish mood. Harry wouldn’t be at all surprised if after the incident in the hallway, Snape refused to teach him fencing at all. He was fully prepared to beg if he had to though.

"Dunno. Weird shadows, like you said," Harry replied.

"It’s not like Severus to be late," Lupin said, collecting himself. "You two wait right here, and I’ll toddle around for a look."

"He could be in the lavatory," Harry said, a nervous, itchy, twitchy feeling in his stomach. The overlay of shadows on the floor moved again, and Snape came around the corner. He was carrying the oblong box that Harry knew contained the rapiers. A white box, one foot square, was hovering inches behind him at shoulder level. In his other hand, he had his wand drawn.

"I was going to send a search party," Remus complained. Snape spared him an annoyed retort.

"Lost something, have you?"

"Where have you been?" Lupin asked.

"I was delayed. Did anyone come through here?"

"We saw no one," Ron said.

"There was a weird shadow on the floor, but it was only the light," Harry added.

"Shadows, Mr. Potter, are the absence of light. Which direction?" he asked. Harry pointed. Severus handed him the oblong box and walked away with the white one still following him. He proceeded carefully to his end of the corridor, looked both ways, frowned, and turned around. The white box got out of his way as he slowly prowled back to Lupin and the boys.

"Were you being followed?" Lupin asked. Snape flicked his wand at the classroom door.

"Yes, I’m sure of it," he said, reaching for the knob. Harry quickly stopped his hand. "What is the matter, Mr. Potter?"

"Don’t touch it," Harry insisted.

"Why not?" Snape asked.

"I don’t know. But you shouldn’t," Harry said.

"Why not?" Snape asked again. Lupin watched Harry, not saying a word.

"I have a bad feeling." Harry couldn’t believe the words even as he said them. Ron snickered.

"Do you have anything more firm than that to go on?" Snape asked.

"Expelliarmus," Harry said, putting his hand on Snape’s wrist and moving his wand and hand together with his own hand. Lupin and Ron both were shocked by the action. Snape was a bit pale himself. The door knob turned bright red, and began to smoke. All four men stepped back a foot, and Snape continued to stare at Harry out of the corner of his eyes. It was a look that tested Harry’s depths. What had he done this time?

"I trust this is not your normal ward," Lupin quipped.

Snape stopped staring at Harry and replied, "No reason to panic."

The knob began to sizzle and hiss. The pungent smell of burnt metal filled the corridor.

"Ew. That’s horrible," Ron grimaced. Harry bent down to his knees, and got as close as he could while holding his sleeve over his nose. "It’s covered with acid of some sort," Ron added.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Harry replied.

"You probably shouldn’t stick your face in it," Ron said.

"Gentlemen," Snape said calmly as Ron tugged Harry to his feet. "A change of scene is in order. I’ll meet you in the Astronomy Tower in ten minutes."

He pulled the white box out of the air and handed it to Lupin.

"What’s this?" Remus asked.

"Have Harry put this on. Size it to fit him properly."

***

"Fess up, Professor," Ron grinned at Lupin. Remus leaned his shoulder against the wall and glanced over at Ron. Though not technically still their professor, he was sure the boys continued to address him as such out of a sense of respect, and he didn’t bother to correct them.

"Are you dressed yet?" Lupin asked.

"Not yet," Harry replied. "It’s too tight in some places and too loose in others. I’m having trouble getting it on."

"Do the best you can, and I’ll size it from there. Hurry up."

"You wouldn’t let us touch the knob," Ron pointed out.

"I didn’t do it, Ron," Remus muttered.

"Was it basilisk blood or dragon blood?" Weasley persisted. Harry tapped him on the arm.

"He didn’t do it," Harry said.

"You did it?"Ron asked Harry.

"No."

"How do you know he didn’t do it?" Ron asked. Remus waited for the answer too.

"Because, he’d be biting the hand that feeds him. You don’t injure the dominant hand of the Potions Master who gives you a critical brew. Am I correct, sir?"

"Quite correct," Lupin said. "Thank you for seeing the obvious. Harry, there’s something I need to tell you, and it’s very important."

"What?"

"What you did back there?"

"What?"

"You can’t go around doing that."

"What? The whole ‘bad feeling’ thing? I was following my intuition."

"No. Not that. By all means, follow your intuition."

"What did I do?"

"He’s talking about what you did to Snape," Ron put in.

"What did I do to Snape?" Harry wondered.

"You put your hand on his wand and commanded a spell with his magic and your magic," Lupin said.

"What about it?"

"It’s not done."

"That’s silly," Harry laughed.

"Harry, it’s not silly. You don’t commandeer another wizard’s wand while he’s holding it," Remus chided him. "It’s a terrible social faux pas."

"It’s like kissing your parents on the mouth," Ron laughed.

"No. It’s not like that. It’s just not done, Harry. Bad form."

"It’s like writing your name in the snow using someone else’s cock," Ron laughed.

"That’s enough," Lupin muttered. "You don’t have to be crass."

"Sorry," Ron giggled. "I’ve never actually seen someone do that. Great wizards have had people expelled for doing that. It’s like saying you’re a more powerful wizard than they are, so you’re showing them how things are done."

"Think Snape will want me expelled?" Harry worried.

"No, he won’t," Lupin assured him. "The only time you can ever use another wizard’s wand while he’s holding it is if you’re the wizard’s occupational superior, or parent, or spouse."

"What?" Harry shrieked. Ron cackled again. "Why didn’t someone tell me this before?"

"It’s never come up," Lupin replied.

"Nice duds," Ron teased Harry. The white fencing suit he wore was cut with darts and lines for a much more tapered waist and narrow shoulders. There was room in the chest for breasts as well, if Harry weren’t mistaken. He plucked at the tight material as Lupin smiled faintly.

"That lying Slytherin whore’s son."

"What’s wrong?" Harry asked, glancing around. He could hear someone stepping quickly up the stairs, and hoped if it were Snape that he was still out of earshot.

"All those times he told James he destroyed it," Lupin laughed. The steps got closer. Remus took out his wand but didn’t size the fencing suit yet. Severus came up the last step and onto the landing, pocketing what appeared to be a silver-gray rock and two tiny pieces of paper. "Severus, you lying prick."

"What have I done this time?" Snape wanted to know. He stopped when he saw Harry, his expression drifting between sadness and delight. "Ah."

"That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself? You’ve had Lily’s suit all this time?"

Severus didn’t reply. He took out his wand and approached Potter. Harry put a hand to the middle of his chest and took a step back.

"I grabbed the wrong box. My mistake. No matter. I didn’t lie. I thought I had destroyed it," Snape said quietly. "Unfortunately, this means I torched a very expensive black fencing suit."

"Lying son of a snake," Lupin muttered.

"This suit was a gift from myself to your mother; a gift between friends, nothing more; when she was still Miss Evans and not Mrs. Potter," Snape explained to alleviate Harry’s glazed expression. "Your father would have done away with it out of spite for me."

"Severus---" Lupin tried to say, but Snape cut him off.

"He made her stop dueling with me because he couldn’t bear the idea of her being near me, of her spending any waking moment away from him. The suit was a gift I could not let him destroy. I meant to do that myself." Severus gnashed his teeth at Lupin, no mean task, all things considered. Harry put a hand up between them to stop them from continuing the argument.

"What did Dumbledore say about the door knob?" Harry asked. Snape’s left eye twitched, and Lupin clenched his fists tightly.

"He gave me a couple of preventative measures to put in the classroom and in my office. If anything else happens, he wants me to report to him right away."

"Thank you for the suit," Harry mumbled. "Can I keep it?"

"If you must. It wasn’t what I meant to give you, and I’m sorry if it upsets you. If it pleases you, you may keep it. Let me size it for you," Severus offered, raising his wand.

"I’ll do that," Lupin said, intervening. "It’ll give me a chance to make sure you haven’t cursed the material or bleached a Lethefold or something."

"As you wish," Snape murmured, retreating a safe distance away.

"Not to interrupt, but why are we in the Astronomy Tower?" Ron asked quietly. Snape and Lupin pointed up at the same time.

"No ceiling," they said in unison, then glared at each other.

"Only the walls to have to guard," Snape added.

"Wait," Harry said, stepping back. "It’s tickling me," he smiled, unbuttoning the top of the suit. He reached around inside and pulled out two long strands of copper colored hair. "Oh," he whispered, holding them up to the dim light of the moon and stars. Snape snatched the strands off the air as the wind pulled them from Harry’s open fingers. The boy looked hypnotized, but he was experiencing vivid memories of putting his small face against hair this color and being rocked to sleep. Snape pushed the strands into an interior pocket of his cloak and avoided Lupin’s disgusted gaze. Remus’s magic seized the material of the fencing suit, distracting Harry momentarily.

"How’s that?" Lupin asked.

"Too loose," he replied.

"And that?"

"Too tight."

"Hold still and try not to squirm," Lupin sighed.

"You’re tickling me. It’s hard not to squirm," Harry smiled.

"Would you like my help?" Snape offered.

"Yes. You could whip up more light," Remus said haughtily. With a loud crack, torches went up around the perimeter of the tower landing. "Show off. How’s that?"

"Too tight. Feels kinda good though," Harry snickered. Ron snicked in echo.

"Don’t look now," Hermione whispered, rolling her eyes.

"Potter, could you come help me light the fire under my cauldron? I need more tinder," Draco cooed, much to the delight of the nearby Slytherins.

"Don’t let him bother you," Ron said as Harry needled Draco with an annoyed glare.

"Potter," Malfoy teased. "Come help me."

"You’re going the right way for an inflammare in your undershorts, Draco," Harry warned, sprinkling herbs carefully into the boiling brew in his potion. He stirred the concoction with a wooden spoon, twelve times left, twelve times right.

"Come on, baby. Light my fire," Draco cackled. Harry ignored him, counting the fibers of holly root as he let them fall into the cauldron. Behind him, Snape returned to the room, leaving the door ajar. He was pocketing a scrolled sheet of parchment tied with a blue ribbon, smiling faintly to himself.

"That’s odd," Ron said. Harry continued to stir, pretending to be engrossed. "Wonder why he’s so cheerful," Ron added.

"Dumbledore didn’t look too keen when he came to the door," Hermione agreed. "It seemed to me he was here to bawl Snape out."

"He doesn’t look like a man who just had his ass chewed," Ron commented. Snape floated around the room, inspecting cauldrons one by one. He nodded his approval and clapped Neville on the back. Longbottom looked as if he might faint. Hermione’s eyes were glittering with curiosity.

"I saw an intriguing position on the Odd Jobs board," Harry interrupted.

"Bottom or top?" Ron asked.

"No, seriously. One of the instructors needs a bogart out of a closet."

"A bogart? That’s all?" Ron scoffed. "Not very exciting work."

"It’s worth twenty points," Harry said. "Might make up for my last Arithmancy quiz. I got 6 out of 10."

"All you have to do is suck up to Volkova and you’ll make up those points," Ron tormented.

"It’s a whisper," Hermione squeaked, turning pink and squelching a giggle. She looked away from Snape’s sudden glance, and down into her cauldron, putting on a studious frown.

"A what?" Harry asked when Snape moved a distance away.

"Nothing better than a bogart. We’ve done the bogart thing. No manticores? How about a nice Dementor?" Ron questioned.

"A whisper. You know," Hermione laughed. Harry looked to Ron for help.

"What’s a whisper?" he asked.

"Remember Mum’s howler?" Ron said. Harry nodded. "A whisper is the opposite of a howler."

"Shouldn’t it be called a whisperer, in that case?" Harry pointed out.

"It’s a love letter," Hermione smiled. "No wonder he’s so cheerful," she grinned. A poof of smoke rose up from Harry’s cauldron, followed by a foul smell.

"That’s really horrid," Ron whined, covering his nose.

"Yeah, I’ve done something stupid again, you can bet," Harry said, backing up too. Hermione followed suit. "I don’t get it. I followed the same potion instructions that you did. Yours smells like pine and holly. Mine smells like...ugh."

"Dead, wet, decaying mermaid fins," Ron supplied helpfully.

"Thanks. Unnecessarily graphic though," Harry replied.

"I’m having a Trelawney moment," Hermione smiled.

"What?"

"Harry, I’m sorry, but your future doesn’t lie in Potions," she quipped. "Poisons, maybe, but not potions. And you’re going to die someday."

"Thanks for the tip," Harry groused.

"Probably in a messy sticky sort of way," Hermione added.

"Thank you. That’s enough of your Trelawney moment," Harry fussed. Hermione grinned at him.

"What is that smell?" Draco asked, wrinkling up his entire face into a ball as he edged closer to the three Gryffindors.

"Your socks before the house elves get them," Ron smirked.

"It’s none of your business, that’s what it is," Hermione said, picking up Harry’s dripping wooden spoon and taking a poke at Malfoy.

"Miss Granger," Snape said behind her. "In your first year of Potions, what did I tell you would happen if I caught a student aiming a dirty potion spoon at another student?"

"You said you’d make the offending student lick out all the cauldrons that day," Draco said, grinning brightly. Harry couldn’t remember having seen Draco so happy.

"Miss Granger?" Severus murmured. "Does your memory serve as well as Mr. Malfoy’s does?"

"You may have said something to that effect, yes, sir," Hermione said miserably.

"Luckily for you, Miss Granger, the deadly effects of this potion on the interior of the human body, coupled with Mr. Potter’s dubious brewing talents, would undoubtedly make such an action homicide on my part. The Headmaster frowns on me killing students more than once a year. The term is young, and I’m saving my kill for later. Therefore, I’d expect you’ll be delighted if I tell you you’ve got a detention every night this week, won’t you, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione mumbled.

"Be in my office at eight sharp. Mr. Potter, how much holly root did you put in here?" Snape asked, standing next to Harry and taking the spoon away from Hermione.

"I don’t remember," Harry lied, stepping on Snape’s foot in an effort to get closer to his cauldron. "Sorry," he added. Snape glared at him.

"Did you measure exactly twelve strands, Mr. Potter?"

"No. He can’t count that high," Draco whispered from his table.

"Mr. Malfoy, tend to your own cauldron, please," Snape said. "We are testing our potions in half an hour. Is yours done yet?"

"No, sir. I can’t get the fire started. I asked Potter to help me, but he refused."

The fire under Draco’s cauldron burst into life with a flick of Snape’s wand. Startled, Draco whipped out his wand as he bounced back from the table.

"Good reflexes, Mr. Malfoy. Get busy on your potion, if you please," Snape said. Draco put away his wand and got to work. Snape moved his own wand over Harry’s cauldron, and the contents vanished. "When a fellow wizard asks you for help, you comply, Mr. Potter."

"He wasn’t having trouble starting his fire," Harry protested with a dark look in Draco’s direction. The catty smile Malfoy was wearing made it pretty clear Harry was telling the truth.

"What house are you in, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked.

"Gryffindor," Harry said proudly.

"What house is Mr. Malfoy in?"

"Slytherin," Harry replied, facing Snape once more.

"Can you get eggs from a cow, or milk from a chicken, Mr. Potter?"

"Not usually, sir, but I’m sure with enough magic, it would be possible."

"Magic isn’t the only thing you are supposed to learn at Hogwarts, Mr. Potter. Fortitude. Attitude. Servitude. Tolerance. You don’t believe you’re only being graded on your assignments, do you?" Snape asked him. Several of the students nearby began looking nervous.

"No, sir."

"In the future, Mr. Potter, when another wizard asks you for help, you will comply."

"With all due respect, sir, Malfoy was being a prat."

"Malfoy being a prat is beside the point, Mr. Potter. You are also capable of being more than a prat yourself, are you not?"

"I suppose, sir."

"Then you suppose correctly, Mr. Potter. We are none of us angels, are we?"

"No, sir."

"When another wizard asks for your help, you will comply. I don’t care what his house colors are. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Back to your potion. Start from the top, Mr. Potter. Stilla statuo cannot be beyond your means." Snape paused for dramatic effect, staring down into the cauldron. "I hope," he added, walking away.

Harry busied himself, keeping an eye on the cauldron but also on the rest of the class as well. Snape went over the list of ingredients on the board, writing out what each was in English and Latin, and what each one meant to the essence of the potion. Draco was the first student to come forward with a vial. He paced behind Snape at the board, reading what he was writing. Harry could tell he was also trying to slip the letter out of Snape’s pocket.

"The holly root thickens the mixture but also adds a strengthening agent. When your Stilla statuo is fully matured you should be able to...sorry, sir. It must have fallen out."

"Mr. Malfoy, am I in your light?"

"No, sir. I was giving you back your letter, sir," Draco said.

"Did you want a look at it?" Snape asked. He handed it to Draco, and Malfoy opened it to find a blank scroll. Disappointed, he gave the scroll back. When Snape’s hand contacted with the parchment, words appeared again. Draco frowned, reaching for it again. "When you let me read your personal correspondence, I will let you read mine," Severus told him, pocketing the scroll inside his cloak this time. "Put your sample on the desk, please, Draco."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, setting his vial carefully on the desktop and going back to his table. Hiding a smile, Harry went back to his potion. More and more students went forward with their vials, including Ron and Hermione. Harry went on stirring and watching the clock. Before long, Snape was done with the board and was wandering the room again. Students with any sense were copying what the Potions Master had written. Harry felt a shadow at his shoulder and looked up.

"How is it coming?" Snape queried.

"It’s murky and foul smelling, like before," Harry reported. He leaned over the cauldron and peered inside. His own reflection shimmered back at him. When the surface became calm, he also saw Professor Volkova’s face above him at an odd angle. Harry dodged back from the table with a squeak, colliding with Snape’s form.

"What did you see?" Snape wanted to know. Harry watched the ceiling, looked down into the cauldron, and watched the ceiling again.

"Do these fumes cause hallucinations?" he asked.

"What did you see?"

"Nothing," Harry lied. Severus knew it. He prodded Harry’s mixture with a clean spoon.

"Potter, I don’t understand how you can be a good cook and yet so dangerous with potions. Any competent student in your year should be able to make this."

"It’s not on purpose," Harry countered softly, watching the ceiling. Had that stone above him shifted? Harry raised a hand and rubbed his eyes. Snape put a hand on his arm and gazed down into the cauldron.

"Did you put cobwebs in here?"

"Me? No."

Snape was staring at the ceiling with Harry now.

"Mr. Potter, take your bag off your desk."

Harry pulled his book bag down, and the desk jumped to the ceiling, splashing thick liquid everywhere. The stones all shifted around in a circle above Harry’s space– it had been covered with a magic shield or barrier of some sort. Dust and cobwebs filtered to the ground as his table dropped once more. Harry’s foul-smelling brew was falling like rain amid the shrieks and screams of the students. Snape dispersed the noxious potion with a quick cleaning spell. The bell rang, and he smiled to himself when the students who had sought cover under their desks grabbed their bags and bolted for the door.

"Mr. Potter, we’ll try again tonight. You may come with Miss Granger to her detention," Snape said to Harry. He returned to his desk at the front of the room, leaving Ron, Harry and Hermione to stare at the shaking table and the burbling ceiling.

"What was that all about?" Ron wondered.

"Search me," Harry shrugged.

"Dinner?" Hermione suggested.

"I’d like to change first," Harry said.

"Newt?" Ron asked.

"Salamander," Harry quipped back.

***

"It’s not fair he gave me a detention," Hermione complained as they made their way from the Gryffindor Tower into the dining hall.

"Hmmm. Smells good in here," Ron said.

"What are you complaining about?" Harry snarked at Granger.

"It’s not like I wanted to lick out the cauldrons, but honestly, Draco started it," Hermione wailed.

"You got a detention for being careless with dangerous fluids. I got a detention for being too thick to brew a simple potion," Harry told her. "He thinks you’re a know-it-all, but he thinks I’m an idiot. You got off easy. He’s going to recommend me for a brain transplant."

"What is this?" Ron asked, staring at the platters that began to appear.

"Fettuccini. Linguini. Spaghetti," Hermione pointed to each dish as it materialized.

"Uh oh. Someone’s been futzing with the house elves," Ron sighed.

"Don’t look at me," Hermione retorted. "It’s a nice change though."

"It’s Volkova again," Harry said. "Don’t you get it?"

"It’s Italian food," Ron said, puzzled. "So?"

"Nothing to worry about. Just a little pasta," Hermione said, picking up her spoon. "Mmm. Garlic."

Harry wasn’t so sure it was all an innocent menu rotation. Up at the instructors’ table, Severus Snape was frowning as he picked over his plate. The food obviously didn’t agree with him. He settled for a goblet of red wine and a small piece of cheese from a nearby platter.

The room got quiet as Professor Volkova came limping into the hall with a gait reminiscent of Mad-Eye Moody in the colder months. She drew more than a few stares from students and instructors alike as she made her way to the staff table. The closer she got to the head of the room, the wider Snape’s smile got. He rose from his seat as she went by behind him, nearly clocking her with his chair.

"How’s the leg?" he asked. Volkova balanced herself, and hissed at him through a toothy smile.

"Fine, thank you," she retorted.

"Wonder what happened to her," Ron speculated. Hermione and Harry shrugged.

Snape stepped away from the instructors’ table, chortling happily to himself. He strode through the room carrying his goblet, sipping away slowly. As he went by the Slytherin Table, Draco asked him a question. Snape paused and leaned down to hear what he was saying.

"Not to worry, dear boy. She’ll be all right. She ran into a desk," Severus said. He set his empty goblet on the table and practically danced on light steps out of the room. As his wicked chuckle echoed into the heights of the main hall, Harry felt a smile coming onto his own face.

"You know, I’m not so sure I want to be locked in his office with him tonight," Hermione said, shivering.

"The only thing scarier than an angry Snape is a happy Snape," Ron said.

"No offense, Harry, but I’m glad you’ve got detention with me," Hermione said.

"No. Lupin’s off on official business. I’m doing homework all weekend," Harry replied.

"Did you sleep last night?" Hagrid asked. Harry shook his head no. "Well, I’m presently a bit rushed, but after you’ve eaten, bring yourself down to my house," he said.

"I promise not to get you in trouble this time," Harry whispered.

"Don’t worry. McGonagall’s forgotten all about them maces and crossbows," Hagrid leered. "Bring your homework."

"Where are you off to?" Harry wanted to know, trailing behind him.

"Malfoy Senior is coming to see Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore this morning."

"What for?"

"Dunno. But I’m to make sure the Headmaster’s office is ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Nothing for you to worry yourself about," Hagrid clucked, patting Harry’s head. "See you in an hour."

"Bye," Harry laughed. Sixty minutes later, he was standing outside Hagrid’s hut. He could hear Fang right inside the door, nose to the crack under the wood. Harry walked around the entire building and back to the front before he saw Hagrid rushing across the lawn. The giant came to a stop, stuffed an empty vial into his pocket, and put his other hand to his chest.

"Whew! Go on in. How long you been standing out here?" he huffed, heaving for breath. Harry pushed the door open, lugging one of Hagrid’s arms over his shoulders. "There’s a lad. Where’s Ron and Hermione? I thought they might come along with you."

"They were playing footsie under the breakfast table. Said they were going to Hogsmeade, but my guess is as soon as Ron’s done with Quidditch practice, they’ll lock themselves in a broom closet somewhere," Harry said as Fang pawed him happily.

"Careful there. You’re sounding jealous."

"Me?"

"Been seeing this coming for better than a year now. What happens when Hermione decides which one of you she prefers in that sense."

"In what sense?"

"Ron and Hermione are your best friends. You should be happy for Ron."

"I’m not jealous of Ron and Hermione. Neither one is my type," Harry laughed. Hagrid smiled nervously. "I mean, it’d be nice to have kissed someone who wasn’t sobbing at the time, but I’m sure, eventually, I’ll find someone. But not Hermione. Gods, no!" he protested, shaking his head. "It would be like dating my sister. I’m not attracted to her."

"Like you’re not attracted to Professor Volkova?"

"I’m not," Harry said flatly. Hagrid chuckled at him.

"Isn’t there anyone you’ve thought about since Cho Chang?" Hagrid asked. "Not meaning to pry."

There was an awkward silence before Harry pulled a folded cloth out of his bag and thrust the bundle at Hagrid.

"Like a biscuit?" he asked timidly.

"Harry, at your age, it’s not healthy to spend too much time mooning over what might have been."

"I’m not," Harry assured him. He hadn’t so much as thought about Cho Chang. Okay, maybe once. He had a vague recollection of a dream that involved naked quidditch. But that was weeks ago.

"Nor is it good to set your hopes on someone all wrong for you."

"What are you driving at?" Harry wondered, taking a bite of one of the cookies. Hagrid lifted one out of the bundle and eyed Harry.

"Professor Volkova," he said.

"No," Harry shook his head. "I don’t have a thing for her, I promise you."

"Harry, I realize I’m the last person you’d take romantic advice from," Hagrid began.

"Not necessarily," Harry smiled, feeling his cheeks turn red. "There’s twenty or thirty other people right off the bat that come to mind,"he added. Encouraged, Hagrid continued.

"What I’m trying to say is, if there’s anything you’d like to ask me that you’re not sure about, I’m here for you."

He let the sentence linger as he ate another cookie. A light went on in Harry’s eyes.

"There are a few things I’d like to ask about," Harry nodded quickly.

"All right then. You can ask anything you want," Hagrid said, putting Harry in a chair and tossing a kettle of water over the fire to boil for tea.

"What can you tell me about Illumina and Severus?"

Hagrid tipped tea leaves into large mugs.

"That’s not what I meant when I said I’d answer questions."

"You said whatever I wanted to know," Harry pointed out.

"I meant in a romantic sense."

"This is romantic. I want to know how they got together."

"I should have never given you that card," Hagrid sighed. "Professor Snape was right angry at me for it. I should have known better than to dangle a mystery in front of you."

"So what is she like?"

"Adventurous. Always looking for danger and throwing herself headlong into it. She was feisty, and funny. Even though she wasn’t what you’d call a classic beauty, she was courted by a number of young men while she was here. Lucius Malfoy made a perfect fool of himself over her. You should have seen it."

"Lucius?" Harry gulped, his eyes wide.

"She saw through him though. A sensible Ravenclaw, that one. She was rather taken with Remus Lupin for a while, but they didn’t work out though."

"Why not?" Harry wondered.

"Er....you’d best ask him about that," Hagrid stammered.

"How did she wind up marrying Professor Snape?"

"That’s a mystery to many of us, but not a tale for me to tell either."

"I can’t ask her about it, now can I?"

"No."

"Can’t ask him either. Wouldn’t be polite."

"So you’re asking me?" Hagrid laughed. "Your ears are too young for this."

"My ears have been around. They’ve heard things," Harry insisted.

"Delving into people’s personal lives can be dangerous, for them and for you. It’s not a game."

"It could be. You wanna play a game?"

"What kind of game?" Hagrid asked skeptically.

"Ten yes or no questions, and you must answer them all truthfully."

"Ten, no. Eight, maybe."

"Nine?"

"Eight."

"Why eight?" Harry wondered.

"My lucky number," Hagrid said.

"Okay! Eight it is. What I want to know is---"

"What’s your rush? What do I get for my eight answers?"

"You can ask me eight questions, and I will tell the whole truth."

"Don’t you have homework you should be doing?"

"Is that one of your questions?" Harry beamed.

"Is that one of yours? Tricky little bugger, yes you are."

"Who should go first?" Harry asked.

"You’d better talk fast, Harry. You’re down to six questions," Hagrid told him, eating another cookie. "These are terrific."

"Do you really like them? Oh!" Harry gasped. "You tricked me!"

"Course I did. Down to five. Fire away," Hagrid grinned. "You made them this morning?"

"Yes. You’re down to five too."

"No. I have six. Does this mean I go first?"

"Five," Harry giggled.

"You go first," Hagrid poked him.

"If Lucius was head over heels with Illumina, why didn’t she marry him? He’s got money, power, and not to mention the whole fear of retaliation if she refused him."

"Illumina came from older money and purer blood than Malfoy’s, and she knew he was only interested in her because of the renown that would bring to his family. Her relatives had come to London from Venice and settled down proper while the Malfoys were still sailing the seven seas. She wasn’t interested in his kind of power. She didn’t give a damn about him retaliating either."

"How did Severus Snape snag her? I suspect it involved a potion."

"This didn’t involve love potion. He was fond of her– that was apparent from when they stepped off the boats. He didn’t slobber all over her the way Lucius did. He made her feel appreciated for more than her family heritage and blood line. He admired her for her mind, the way he did Mrs. Snape. If there’s one thing you learn about Severus Snape, it’s that his mother walked on water."

"So I gathered," Harry nodded grimly.

"Severus has a quiet way of admiring people. He didn’t burst forth with presents and flowers and poetry and such, like Lucius did. I think that’s because he’s too afraid of rejection. No. He does things slow and easy. They grew closer gradually. It took Severus six weeks to say hello to her first term, first year. How he ever got up the nerve for ‘marry me’ is a mystery."

"Maybe she asked him," Harry suggested.

"Maybe," Hagrid agreed. "My turn. How’s them fencing lessons coming along?"

"He’s a task master. Thank you again to you and Lupin."

"You’re welcome again, from both of us."

"Three left."

"Four. Does it surprise you he’s a task master as a trainer?"

"No."

"Tea?"

"Three," Harry giggled. Hagrid took a playful swipe at him, and then poured the water over the leaves. "Can I tell you something silly, and you won’t laugh at me?"

"All right."

"You promised to tell the truth," Harry reminded him.

"I will."

"Do you think Professor Volkova is a pervert?"

"Whaaaat?" Hagrid stammered.

"She’s always touching me, putting her hand on my arm or on my shoulder. Ron said she’s a perv."

"I don’t know if I’m qualified to tell you if she’s pervy, lad," Hagrid murmured. "But if she makes you uncomfortable, you should go to McGonagall, or to Dumbledore about it."

"I’m not uncomfortable, but it’s weirding me out," Harry admitted. "I mean, I’m not used to it, people I hardly know wanting to touch me. Is this because I kissed her?"

"Some folks touch when they talk. It’s natural for them," Hagrid offered.

"I know," Harry said. "I’m not used to it is all."

"One question left," Hagrid said. "You want to ask it now, or save it up for later?"

"I’ll squander it. It’s a long one though," Harry said, giving Hagrid the last cookie.

"I’ll put my thinking cap on," Hagrid laughed. "Will I need paper and pencil?"

"Illumina Snape worked with the Deusredeti. Anna Volkova worked with the Deusredeti. Illumina disappeared while on a mission in Bucharest. Volkova is a former vampire hunter, and I suspect Illumina Snape is now a vampire. How could they both work for the Deusredeti, and be on opposite sides like that? Why are Snape and Volkova so at odds? Is Snape a vampire too? Are they at each other’s throats because of Illumina, and what happened to her? There’s something deeper to this hatred between Professor Snape and Volkova than the Dark Arts job. I can feel it. I can smell it. There’s something rotten and nasty working to the surface between them."

"You’ve got good instincts, Harry," Hagrid said. "By my count, that’s about six questions though."

"Pick one," Harry shrugged.

"Severus Snape is not a vampire. You’ve seen him in daylight, full sun, and at the dinner table. Does he appear to be a creature of the night to you?"

"Him, no. Lucius Malfoy, maybe," Harry nodded.

"You got the blood sucker part right," Hagrid agreed. "No. Lucius is warm flesh and blood too."

"Snape hates Volkova for being a vampire hunter. Is he worried she is after his wife?"

"Volkova is a FORMER vampire hunter, from what McGonagall says."

"It’s a bit like being a former prostitute, probably," Harry commented. "You might have given it up, but when the chips are down, you’ll still know what you’re doing if you’re in a tight spot. Am I right or not?" Harry smiled when Hagrid coughed up a laugh. His smile faded as he thought for a moment. "That’s horrible for Professor Snape though," he said sadly. "He took it very hard, did he?"

"He took it extremely hard, and didn’t give up without a fight. Severus tried to save Illumina, but it was too long between when she was bitten and when she was brought to St. Mungo’s. If he had gotten to her fast enough, there are potions that can be used to reverse the effects. It all depends on the strength of the victim, and the time between bite and treatment."

"I thought once you were bitten, that’s all she wrote," Harry said.

"Professor Snape adapted an ancient cleansing potion he found, and tried it on her. It didn’t work on her. But since then that potion was adapted for others, and they were successfully reversed to normal humans."

"He can turn vampires back into humans?" Harry gaped.

"If they get the potion in time, yes."

"Bloody hell," he whispered.

"You didn’t think Professor Dumbledore wanted Severus at Hogwarts for his sparkling personality, did you? He’s a natural with potions. He’s a natural, and he’s an artist," Hagrid bragged.

"But it was too late for Illumina?" Harry said.

"I’m afraid so."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Snape went into a deep depression, wandered around for a while. We worried he might never come back to Hogwarts. But little by little," Hagrid said, "Dumbledore talked him through it. Lucius never left his side either."

"Lucius?"

"No matter what all is wrong about him, Malfoy is a good friend. He’s a jerk, a ponce, and a back-stabbing knee-biter, but he’s devoted to Snape, and the feeling is mutual," Hagrid nodded.

"But what about--" Harry started to say.

"You’re out of questions, and you’ve got a bag full of homework there. Let’s see to it, eh?" Hagrid said, pouring Harry more tea.

"Come in, come in!" Hagrid boomed, opening the door widely.

"Hello, Hagrid," Headmaster Dumbledore said as he stepped inside. "Hello, Harry."

Hedwig launched herself at Harry through the open portal, putting him back down in his seat. Harry untied the note on her ankle, dropping it in his lap when it popped and crackled, expanding itself dramatically.

"A note from Lupin?" Hagrid asked. Harry smiled, opening the sizeable scroll.

"I need to speak to Hagrid alone. Would you mind?" Dumbledore murmured, pointing to the open portal. "It’s chilly though. Did you bring a cloak?"

"We can fix that," Hagrid said, dropping his own furry mantel over Harry.

"Thanks," Harry smiled happily, picking up his scroll and trailing it out the door behind him. Hedwig poked at Harry’s ear, running her beak along his hair. He reached up and tickled her breast feathers. Fang followed Harry out as well, sticking close to his side. As the door was closing, Harry saw Dumbledore hand Hagrid a small vial. The inside seemed alive with jumping brown dots.

"Missing something?" Dumbledore asked.

"My flea circus! Where did the boys get off to this time?"

"Lucius Malfoy was squirming in his seat the entire time we talked."

Hagrid closed the door with a wink at Harry, and Harry turned his attention to his letter from Lupin. He made himself comfortable in front of an old tree at the edge of the forest. Fang lounged ungracefully at Harry’s side. The letter wasn’t War and Peace, and it didn’t contain any state secrets or interesting recipes or the like. Lupin must have had a good deal of free time on his hands though, whatever he was up to. He started each page by telling Harry what he was having for breakfast, where he was looking for books to send back, how he was going to spend the afternoon. The letter covered four days, start to finish, and ended with a promise that he would write again soon, and see Harry even sooner. Harry read it four times before he rolled the parchment pages together and retied them. A warm feeling filled his chest, and he lifted the parchment to his nose, inhaling deeply. A wonderful spicy scent greeted him.

"Did you fly through the kitchens on your way here?" he asked Hedwig. "Smells like caraway and black pepper. Could you take it back to the dorm for me? I don’t want to lose it out here."

Hedwig accepted the scroll back, clenching her beak near the end of Harry’s nose while he struggled to get the temporary tie tight enough to hold but loose enough she could undo it herself when she reached his room. He dodged aside, and she dodged with him, getting him on the cheek instead.

"That’s enough of that," he said, shooing her off. Hedwig called out as she winged her way back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry watched her race with another owl the closer she got to the castle. They dived in tandem into the nearest open window.

Harry and Fang wandered around the outside of Hagrid’s hut for a few minutes. Harry paused to straighten the wood pile, and to peer into the brown jug propped up beside the wood pile. He pulled Fang along with a soft whistle, going to the edge of the Dark Forest and peering between the trees into the afternoon shadows.

"How much longer do you suppose they’re going to be?" Harry whispered to Fang. The boarhound looked back over at the house and sat down again. He stared up at Harry and yawned. Clearly a walk wasn’t foremost in his mind. "We could pop in and see if any of the centaurs are around," Harry suggested. Fang slumped his head against his paws and made himself comfortable where he was. "You’re right. It’s probably a bad idea to go in alone."

Harry sat down beside the big tree again, and Fang put his head on Harry’s knee. Harry closed his eyes and listened to nothing at all at first. Slowly he began to pick out one sound from another.

Birds were calling to each other in the trees.

The Slytherins were practicing Quidditch over on the field. Their shouts were carrying on the wind.

Fang was breathing heavily, or someone close was.

A parade of small feet was stamping across flagstones on a walkway. ‘First years,’ Harry thought happily, nestling back into the tree. The bark complained with crackling crunches as his shoulders moved back and forth. Hagrid’s cloak was a little itchy. Maybe those fleas had gotten loose in his pocket too.

Footsteps were approaching, walking over dry leaves. Harry opened one eye. No one was coming across the field from the school. How curious. He opened his other eye and narrowed both. Maybe whoever was approaching was wearing an invisibility cloak, he pondered. He waited but nothing happened. The footsteps grew ever closer, and slower. Fang bounced to his feet and darted away, scratching at the door to the house. Harry’s scar began to tingle, and he knew without a doubt he was being watched.

"Ron," Harry whispered. "Are you playing with the cloak again?" he asked softly. The tingling was getting stronger, and it was accompanied by a sense of calmness that was completely unusual considering the circumstances. Harry felt himself standing up when he hadn’t even thought about it. He turned and faced the forest, which was growing ever darker with the coming night. "Ron? Hermione?" he stammered.

Harry was staring into the shadows as the tingling moved down from his forehead and settled in his chest. His breathing became slower and slower. He could feel himself wanting to sleep, standing up, right here. Harry balanced himself against the tree and shook his head to clear his mind. It didn’t help. His legs began to carry him into the space between the trees, where the shadows were beckoning to him, inviting and dark. It was already as black as night in there, nearly impossible to tell one shape from the next. One shadow in particular, tall and bendable, stepped away from the side of a nearby tree. It took on the shape of a dark-haired man, and at first, Harry relaxed, thinking it was Severus Snape.

"Professor? Is that you?" Harry whispered. This was not Severus Snape, but someone not unlike him either– tall, pale, dangerous, and spooky. Liquid ruby eyes focused on Harry, and suddenly he could stare at nothing else. The man stepped into better view, his white waxy skin visible even in the gloom.

"Harry!" Hagrid called behind him. "Don’t go in there alone, Harry!"

The giant crashed into the forest, and the sound of his approach broke the hypnotic spell of the man with ruby eyes. The closer Hagrid got, the farther away the man pulled, and the stronger Harry felt. Whoever it had been vanished into the shadows before Hagrid reached Harry’s side.

"What is it? Did you see something?" Hagrid wanted to know. In response, Harry turned on wobbling legs and hit the ground hard on his knees. Hagrid sat on the ground and pulled Harry protectively close.

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked. Hagrid gave him a small shake of his head, confused. Harry lolled in Hagrid’s grip, unable to lift his head and answer.

"Harry? What happened?" Hagrid said anxiously. Potter couldn’t answer though. He closed his eyes and struggled to catch his breath. The world was spinning.

"Did you see anything, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked.

"Don’t know for sure. Someone or something in the shadows there," Hagrid pointed. A flat thumb pulled up Harry’s eyelid, and Dumbledore gazed inside. His form was haloed by golden and violet lights. "It looks like he’s been hit by a charisma spell. Take him to Madam Pomfrey at once," Dumbledore ordered.

"He’s been mesmerized. It happens right before they strike." That was Volkova’s voice. She was standing right at Harry’s bedside.

"You aren’t seriously suggesting we have vampires roaming our forest, this close to the school," Severus Snape growled from the other side of the bed.

"I’m not suggesting a thing," Volkova answered back. "The facts speak for themselves. Headmaster, you said yourself you recognized the symptoms. Heightened sensory sensitivity. Dilated pupils. Increased heart rate. Increased appetite. Am I correct, Madam Pomfrey? This is the result of a charisma spell."

"Yes, on all accounts. When he wakes up, he’ll no doubt be famished."

"I’m very familiar with the condition as well," Dumbledore said.

"The boy needs to remain under careful observation," Snape said.

"He’ll be fine," Pomfrey poo-poo’d Snape’s paranoia.

"The charisma spell should wear off once he’s had a good long rest. But there are other concerns that need to be addressed. He needs a constant protection spell set up around him," Snape insisted.

"Constant observation is going too far. We don’t need to concentrate on the child. We must concentrate on the creature. We need to protect the child, of course, but the creature should not be able to enter the castle unaided," Volkova murmured. Harry felt a hand trace over his forehead and stroke his scar. He nearly levitated off the bed at the feel of it. Every nerve in his body whispered how nice that had felt, and could she please do that in several other places?

"It wasn’t in the castle. It was in the forest," Dumbledore pointed out.

"My point is, sir, that if one of those creatures got close enough to the child to cast this strong of a spell, how hard do you think it will be to merely carry him away next time he’s left vulnerable?" Volkova said angrily. The hand caressing his forehead moved again, a thumb going down his scar and over it. "Once they’ve decided on a victim, they rarely leave without achieving success. If we keep Mr. Potter in the castle, he will be safe. But we have to search the forest at once, chase this monster out."

"Professor Volkova, take your hands off the boy. You’re causing him to have cardiac palpitations," Snape growled. A heavy blanket was dropped over Harry’s form and stretched out to cover him.

"I wasn’t trying to harm him," Volkova defended. "Touch is very important in healing. My grandmother was a healer. I learned much from watching her. Isn't your father a renowned healer as well?"

"Severus, I want you to question Harry when he awakens. Find out what he saw. Anna, you are going to come with me, and we are going to search the forest where Harry was. You’ll be able to tell me better than anyone what I’m looking for, what tracks or marks or residual magic will be there."

"As you wish, Headmaster," Snape answered. Harry heard Dumbledore walking away. Volkova must have gone too. But Snape continued to speak. "I know what you’re up to, Volkova. Don’t cross me. I’ll do a lot more than slam a desk into you."

"I have no idea what you’re talking about," Volkova whispered.

"Thirty six kills. How many of them did you know, Volkova? How many of them were former colleagues? Ones that you compromised out of jealousy or fear?"

"Someone’s telling tales out of school, I see," Volkova mused.

"They aren’t creatures. They’re people."

"They are predators who will wipe us out if we allow them free reign."

"Think you’re so clever. I know how you did it. I know how you survived so long in your former occupation. I also know why you got out when you did."

"You know nothing, Severus. Nothing."

"Gallahad."

"Speculation. Nothing more. You’re testing me."

"You perfected the Gallahad Elixir, on your own, or with some very talented help. But you perfected it, didn’t you?"

"The Gallahad Elixir is a medieval myth. It’s an allegory for a monk’s sweet dream that he could conquer all evil with only purity of heart, mind, body, and spirit."

"That’s what you have to say, isn’t it? Or your secret is out."

"You could perfect the Gallahad. I know you could. I’ve seen what you can do, Severus."

"Unlike you, I have qualms about the procurement of certain necessary ingredients."

"You have qualms? After all this time? You do astound me, Severus, and you do intrigue me."

"I catch you hovering over Potter in my class again, and I’ll take you straight to Dumbledore."

"I wasn’t hovering," Volkova denied.

"Hovering. Clinging. Loitering. Stalking. What shall we call it?"

"The spell’s proper name is Arachneme."

"You weave your web on my ceiling again, little spider, and I’ll crush you," Severus warned.

"You’re very sexy when you glare like that," Volkova chuckled.

"Keep yourself away from Potter, and away from my other students as well."

"Difficult to promise, as they are also my students."

"Not for long, if I have my way about you."

"My dear Severus. You could have your way whenever you like. All you have to do is ask nicely," Volkova purred happily.

"The mere idea of the idea of my way with you is enough to turn my stomach."

"Don't you like blondes?" she asked. "Or do you prefer your women ice cold? I’ll play dead, if that’s what it takes."

Shortly after, she squeaked, as if Snape had grabbed her arm or shoulder.

"You taunt me at great personal risk, Volkova."

"My, you have such a strong grip. I look forward to gripping you back in a more personal setting."

"I will have you brought up on indecency charges," Snape threatened. "Don’t you touch my children for your vile potions."

"I’m not touching anyone," Volkova growled. Her footsteps hurried away at an awkward interval, as if she were trying to recover her balance. Then they evened out, but stayed at a fast clip. A different hand moved over Harry’s locks, delicate and slow. Harry moaned and tossed his head when the fingers moved down over his scar. He felt as if he’d been covered in another blanket, surrounded by warmth and concern.

"Such a fitful sleeper," Snape murmured. "Don’t fret. I’ll be back."

***

Harry awoke from a miserable dream which vanished around him, leaving a dreary air in the room. He rubbed his face against his pillow and blinked back tears. Ron moved into view.

"All right, Harry?"

Potter sat up slowly, and had a terrible suspicion it was Sunday already. His head throbbed. His glasses were missing. Someone was trying to shove a block of chocolate into his mouth. Harry choked back in alarm, and Ron giggled quietly.

"I’m only doing what Madam Pomfrey said. ‘The minute he wakes up,’ she said, ‘get him to eat this’."

Ron handed Harry his glasses and the block of chocolate, and planted himself in the chair close to the side of the bed. He picked up one of Harry’s pillows as Potter gobbled the chocolate, licking off his fingertips. Ron wasn’t sure what to say, and remained quiet for several seconds, watching Harry devour the remedy.

"Had a bit of a lie-in, eh?" Weasley asked. Harry nodded slowly. "Hermione will be here directly. She’s in the library. At least pretend you’re shocked by that."

Harry smiled at Ron weakly. Dreams echoed in Harry’s head, dreams involving a lot of naked flesh and the feeling of a hot wet mouth all over his body. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

"Do you remember anything?" Ron asked. "Snape and Volkova were here earlier. It looked like Dumbledore was going to have to throw water on them to get them apart."

"Red eyes," Harry said woozily after a minute.

"Malfoy’s been telling everyone you were snatched up and ravished by a vampire. What a stupid git," Ron put in as he heaved an impatient sigh. Harry had another dream image go through his mind– a man with dark hair mounting him and shoving himself deep inside, riding Harry with such ferocity that every nerve in the boy’s body was screaming with pain and pleasure. It was so real that Harry could believe he was remembering and not imagining. He trembled violently. Ron moved from the chair to the bed, putting a hand on his arm. "Harry, nothing like that happened," Weasley assured him tenderly. "Are you all right? Malfoy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He wasn’t even there. Get a grip. Holy moldy cricket wickets. You got hit by a charisma spell. You got light-headed. You passed out. You slept for fourteen hours. Now you’re going to want to eat everything in sight for a couple days. End of story."

"He’s awake. Perfect timing," Hermione said as she hurried into the room and pounced on the end of the bed. "I got the books, but it wasn’t easy."

"What books?" Harry croaked.

"You were mumbling about Gallahad. She went and looked him up."

"I was?"

"One of King Arthur’s knights," Hermione announced, tossing a pictorial about Camelot into Harry’s lap and nearly compromising his future ability to have children. "And, as chance would have it, a mythical elixir used to defend the holy against attack from the impure."

"So why was Harry mumbling about him?" Ron wanted to know.

"Whoa," Hermione whispered. She had been scanning a list of ingredients from a potion manual. Ron leaned over to try and look, and she shut the book right quickly.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," Hermione lied. "Harry, what made you think of Gallahad?"

"Snape and Volkova were arguing above me. They mentioned it. That’s all I remember."

"Let’s have a look then," Ron said, tugging the book. Hermione held fast, jumping up off the bed.

"Who has the Gallahad Elixir, Harry? Snape or Volkova?" she asked.

"Snape accused Volkova of having it," Harry told her. "He was very sure."

"Uh oh," Hermione paled. "We have to go see if....see if....Madam Pomfrey has brought up that tray from the kitchens for you. Yes. We’ll be back in a jiffy."

"I’ll stay with Harry. You check on the tray."

"Ron."

"What? God. It’s like we’re already married," he said to Harry.

"Ron. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To check on Harry’s food," Hermione lied, her eyes glittering with nervousness.

"It takes two of us to do that?"

"Yes."

"You’d better go," Harry said to Ron. "She clearly wants to tell you something that I’m not supposed to hear about, owing to my delicate nature."

"Now, Harry," Hermione soothed, putting a hand on his arm.

"I don’t care what it is. I’d rather not know, if it’s all the same to you. I’ve had enough bad news," Harry sulked. He closed his eyes as Hermione dragged Ron out into the hallway, where they bickered back and forth. The dream returned to Harry, the one of being forced against his will by the man with dark hair, the man he had seen in the forest. Strange hands were prowling his clothes, touching his body. A wet mouth bit and kissed its way around his most sensitive areas. Harry gulped, blinking back tears.

It was so real. Was Ron lying to him? Had something happened out there?

"You’re awake," Snape said.

"Yes, clearly," Harry replied.

"We need to talk, Mr. Potter," Snape said. He pulled the tray down and set it in Harry’s lap. Potter’s mouth watered at the sight of sandwiches and pretzels and cookies, fruit and nuts and bananas and such. As hungry as he was, though, he had to be cautious. He picked up the brightest, reddest, most-inviting apple and handed it to Snape. Severus held it absently, turning the fruit around in his long fingers. "I need to know what you remember," Severus said. Harry waited, watching him. Snape lifted the apple to his mouth and took a large bite, lifting a napkin from the tray in order to dab the juice off his mouth. As Snape chewed slowly, Harry picked up a stick of celery and took a snapping bite. When Snape lifted the apple to his mouth a second time, Harry spotted his wand up his sleeve.

"I don’t remember much," Harry said around a mouthful of celery.

"It’s important that you are perfectly honest with me, Harry," Snape said. Harry looked at the pumpkin juice. Was it laced with Veritaserum? Snape watched Harry lingering carefully over the tray, clearly not sure what he should and shouldn’t touch. Sensing the boy’s discomfort, Snape lifted up the goblet and took a big drink. Harry relaxed. When Snape handed Harry the goblet, Potter took a big drink as well.

"I remember red eyes," Harry offered. Severus winced painfully. He was worried. No, more than that. He was frightened.

"What else? Any details would be helpful," the Potions Master prodded.

"Can we play a game, Professor?" Harry tested. Snape lit up with fury.

"I don’t strike you as the gin rummy sort, do I, Potter?" he said in a deceptively calm voice.

"If you answer five questions truthfully for me, I will answer five for you. I will tell you anything you want to know."

"Why five?"

Harry picked up half a sandwich and offered it to Snape. He also shifted around under the covers, hoping Snape would sit on the side or the end of the bed.

"It’s my lucky number," Harry answered. Snape planted himself in the chair beside the bed, facing the other beds and the far wall. He accepted the sandwich gracefully though he wasn’t at all hungry. Harry picked up the other half, chewing with meticulous bites. His eyes kept going to Snape’s sleeve. Severus watched those green eyes move back and forth several times, until finally, he withdrew the wand from his sleeve and put it on the covers next to Harry.

"You first," Snape said.

"Did you come here to Obliviate the daylights out of me if I say the wrong thing?"

"Yes," Snape nodded. "Four left. My turn?"

"Yes. Four."

"We are being strict," Snape smiled. "What or who did you see in the forest, Mr. Potter?"

"He looked like you, or I’d’ve never let him that close. I’m not stupid."

"You’re sure it was a he?"

"A tall, thin man with dark hair, very pale."

"Red eyes," Snape repeated, chewing. He sighed with relief and murmured, "He."

"Dobby made these sandwiches. He butters the bread first. Said it keeps the stuff inside better," Harry commented.

"I’ll remember that next time I ask for a sandwich from the kitchens. Your turn again."

"I didn’t see Illumina."

"I didn’t ask if you had."

"I know. That was a freebie."

"Free bee?"

"Ask five, get one gratis."

"Generous of you."

"Is Illumina out in the forest?"

"No. Two left."

"Who is the man I saw?"

"I have no idea. One left."

"Why were you so afraid Illumina was the one I saw?"

"She’s close by. Not in the forest but in Hogsmeade. I asked her to come visit me at Hogwarts, and I was worried you had seen her. But you did not. My turn."

"At your service."

"Not to be indelicate, Mr. Potter. Rest assured I have valid and pertinent reasons for asking you this. Has Professor Volkova been in any way improperly forward with you when you’ve been alone with her?"

"In what sense?"

"Draco tells me she pays you an inordinate amount of attention in Dark Arts classes. That she’s always touching you, favoring you, using you for demonstrations with spells and such. I myself have seen that the woman can’t be within ten yards of you without putting her hand on you somehow. I’m asking if she has been improper towards you, Harry."

More than a faint trace of irritation colored Snape’s question.

"You mean forward as in---" Harry said, picking up the banana and then putting it back down. He went hot pink, averting his eyes.

"Yes, in a sexual fashion, precisely that. She has made improper advances?" Snape clarified.

"No, sir," Harry mumbled, stuffing half a cookie in his mouth.

"Good," Snape decided. He paused awkwardly. "Has anyone else been improper with you, Mr. Potter?"

"WHY are you asking me this, and WHY should I tell you?" Harry asked angrily.

"You are out of questions, Mr. Potter."

"You are too, Professor Snape."

"Are we at an impasse?" Severus tested.

"Not necessarily. You could offer me more questions," Harry suggested, calming down.

"Very well. I grant you five more. But you must answer my question directly, please."

"Answer mine first."

"Fine. After examining your bruises this summer, I was of a mind that you were tied up on more than one occasion while at the Dursleys, and that they abused you."

"I told you I was. They tied me up at night so I wouldn’t wander about the house trying to off them."

"What I’m asking is if they had other motives for tying you up, other than keeping themselves safe from you. I’m asking if any of them made a sexual attempt against your person. It’s important that I know."

"You’re treading very personal territory, uninvited," Harry said with all the anger his embarrassment allowed. "I asked why you want to know. Would you be willing to answer your own question if I asked you such a personal thing?"

Snape snatched up the goblet and took another drink of pumpkin juice.

"I will answer your questions first, but you must promise to answer mine. I am curious because the state of your purity has a bearing on why Professor Volkova is stalking you."

"Stalking me?" Harry echoed.

"In answer to my own question, I’m happy to report that over the years certain acquaintances have in fact made sexual advances against my person. Though I must admit, not as often nor as recently I would like. This is most likely due to the fact that I spend far too much of my day surrounded by children, who act, if you will, as both a deterrent and a remedy for such longings."

"I don’t follow you."

"I work with children who belong to other people, and therefore I do not wish to have my own. My days with you lot are more than enough."

"I see. You work all day with us, and we drive you nutters, therefore you don’t regret not having your own children because you have us, and even though we drive you nutters, you sorta like us. Am I correct?"

"No comment. My answer, if you please, Mr. Potter."

"I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but the state of my...PURITY..." Harry growled, "...is stable and unchanged. So far as I know, and I’m sure I’d remember, because I’d have to be there, wouldn’t I? If you’re asking if I was molested at Privet this summer, and that’s why I wanted to run away, the answer is emphatically no! Certainly not. You dirty rotten pervert. You ought to hate yourself for asking such disgusting questions of young children."

"Thank you very much for your candor, however unsolicited your editorializing was. Brat."

"You’re welcome," Harry muttered.

"Something troubles you though," Snape sensed. Harry gave a half-hearted shrug, and avoided the Potions Master's piercing eyes. "You have one question left," Snape offered as truce. He glanced up at the mirror on the far wall, and could make out the fading shadow of Professor McGonagall. He had known she was listening through the spelled mirror, and hoped now that she had had her question answered, that she would move away and leave them in peace.

"I have two," Harry said.

"One."

Harry mentally counted, and shook his head at Snape.

"Two."

"I beg to differ."

"Beg all you like. I have two yet."

"As you wish. I will give you a ‘free bee’. What are your questions, Mr. Potter?"

"Can you tell me what is it you have against Professor Volkova?"

"I can tell you what I’d like to have against her– a very sharp knife to the throat."

"That’s not what I asked."

"No. I cannot tell you what I have against her."

"You have to be truthful," Harry reminded him.

"Your exact question was if I could tell you, and I truthfully answered that I could not tell you."

"What do you have against Professor Volkova?" Harry said quickly.

"Prat."

"Jerk."

"For five more questions, I will steer you in the right direction," Severus offered. He glanced nervously at the mirror, and couldn’t detect McGonagall’s shadow. That didn’t mean she wasn’t there, of course.

"Hm...." Harry pondered. "You’ve got more than a wand up your sleeve, haven’t you?"

"Time is wasting, Mr. Potter," Snape gave a very Slytherin smile.

"All right," Harry nodded. "Mine first."

"She’s a dubious instructor with a shady past."

"Ah. It is professional jealousy."

"She’s a vampire killer, and I’m married to a vampire," Snape whispered. "What do you think I have against her?"

"Is that one of your questions? Can I answer it without fear of getting a hot foot?"

"No, and fat chance."

"Pity. I was so hoping you’d say yes," Harry grinned wickedly. "You said Volkova is stalking me, for which the condition of my purity is a matter of concern for you. Are you afraid she wants to molest me?"

"Do you have to sound so hopeful?" Severus questioned spitefully.

"I’m not HOPEFUL," Harry blurted. "Is this a Voldemort kind of stalking? What does she want from me?" he shivered.

"A particular body fluid, for a potion she requires, a potion she would have a difficult time living without, if she's taken it for as many years as I believe she has."

"My blood," Harry shivered, having visions of the distant graveyard where he had fought tooth and nail for his life against Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

"Not your blood, I’m afraid."

"Blood. Sweat. Tears. Earwax. Snot. Urine."

"Getting warmer," Snape said, picking up the banana and putting it in Harry's grasp. A light went on in Harry’s mind.

"Oh! Ugh. That’s horrible," he recoiled, putting the fruit back down. Snape’s resulting laughter took Harry by surprise.

"I suppose at your age it should seem so," Snape murmured. Harry didn't like being a source of amusement for anyone. The scraping sound of Severus's muffled laughter made him blush not out of anger, but out of a sense he had in some way shown how very inexperienced he was at certain things. Harry sensed though that Snape was gladdened by the innocence of his reaction. He was certain Snape must have potions or spells that could detect whether or not he was a virgin, and entertained the urge, however briefly, to ask him about them. He was quite afraid what the answer might be, more importantly how the question itself might be interpreted, and decided against asking.

" 'S not like I've had a lot of free time on my hand for that kind of thing as it is," Harry said quickly. His shoulders sank seconds later when he realized how that sounded. Great. He was going from bad to worse.

"Perhaps we can be of use to one another, Mr. Potter. I propose a truce, an accord, a gentleman’s agreement."

"I’m listening," Harry said, feeling his heart skip several beats. Hadn't Hermione said that was against school rules?

"You give me what I want, and I will give you what you want."

"I....what....are you....sure?" Harry stammered.

"Can you keep your mouth shut about what you saw in the forest?" Severus asked. Why was Harry turning such a shade of pink, he wondered. The boy gave a quick laugh, looked away, and quickly became serious again, nodding to his professor.

"Maybe I could. What do I get in return for my silence?"

"Open question and answer sessions, at my discretion."

"What?"

"Complete honesty from me, Mr. Potter, something a select few wizards share."

"Really?" Harry was very intrigued.

"Think of all the things I could teach you," Severus tempted him.

"Yes, you could," Harry said slowly, his voice growing just a shade huskier than usual. "What’s the catch?"

"Catch?"

"Milk from chickens, eggs from cows. I was paying attention, you know. No Slytherin offers complete honesty without getting a benefit in return. I’m not expecting you to be anything but Slytherin."

"There’s no catch," Severus whispered, his eyes practically glowing.

"Yeah, uh huh, right."

"Are we agreed then?"

"No. What’s the catch?"

"Tick tick tick tick tick," Snape whispered.

"Oh, you aren’t going to play me that easy," Harry laughed. "No. All you’re going to do is ask me pervy things about my sex life."

"I have no interest in hearing about your sex life, Mr. Potter," Snape muttered. "My benefit is in knowing that if Professor Volkova asks you to assist her in her quest for potion ingredients, you will come to me at once and tell me. If she ever makes you feel uncomfortable, no matter what, you will come to me."

"All right," Harry said slowly. Snape watched him approvingly, picking up his wand and putting it inside his cloak. Between them, they had left nothing on the tray but a crumbled cookie and the banana. Harry picked up the cookie and offered it to Snape. Severus accepted it with a softened, sad smile.

"Harry, if anyone ever makes you feel awkward or uncomfortable, not just Volkova, you may confide in me, if you wish. If you need someone to talk to, and Remus isn’t about, and it’s a matter that Minerva might find distasteful or too shocking, you may look me up."

"Do you mean it?" Harry wondered, bowing his head.

"Of course I do, or I wouldn’t have offered," Severus replied. It was like reaching his hand across a dark abyss, not knowing what he’d find on the other side.

"Good. Cause there’s this Potions Master whose been terribly nice to me lately, and it’s starting to weird me out," Harry whispered, not daring to raise his head. Snape's heart wobbled and fell straight down between his knees. Had this child never had a single person he could trust without reservation?

"In all seriousness, Mr. Potter, I’m a very good listener, and discrete as the grave."

"I dunno," Harry whispered, lifting his chin and gazing up at Severus. "I know what you do for a living. Would it be wise of me to tell you all my secrets?" His green eyes twinkled faintly.

"Not all of them. Only the important ones," Snape mused. "I couldn’t care less what your favorite color is, or who you have indecent fantasies about. I want to know that you are safe, that the wizarding world will always have you to count on, and that James Potter isn’t going to come back and haunt me because I let you down somehow."

"My father haunts you?" Harry asked , intrigued.

"No. It was a figure of speech."

"Oh," Harry sighed.

"You know where I am if you need me," Snape said. Severus hesitated before carefully patting Harry on top of the head once or twice. Harry stared at him in shock. Snape gave a stiff bow, turned on his heel, and hurried out of the hospital ward.