TITLE: Trading Spaces

RATING: R (slash warning m/m)

PAIRING: HG/SS, HP/DM, HP/HG (friendship)

AUTHORS' NOTE: For the book, picture something from Pagemaster, if you require a visual.

Chapter Three: The Blackest Magic ... Ever!


Severus Snape stood before his boiling cauldron in his beloved dungeons. It was dark, it was dank, and it was quiet. This place was his refuge despite it being filled at regular intervals with adolescents. He had taken comfort in laying out all of his ingredients for an incredibly delicate potion called the Stunning Sheen. This morning had been a first for him and he had no desire to have any repeats. He wanted to brew his potion and forget all about it.

To say that he'd been shocked to see Hermione Granger in a compromising position with Harry Potter wasn't exactly accurate. He'd always suspected that they had some sort of intimate relationship. Not that he speculated on the affairs of his students but these two stood out from the crowd. You couldn't walk down the bloody hall without someone commending Potter for picking up refuse or being kind to old witches. Severus was relieved that at least he hadn't seen anything too shocking. Who knows what type of potion he'd need to brew if he'd been unfortunate enough to glimpse any nude arms, legs, or other . . . appendages.

He was also rather disturbed by the whole encounter. Of course, he'd pulled frustrated young lovers apart before, but he had never done so in one of their bedchambers. It was too intimate for his own peace of mind. He couldn't quite get past the look on Miss Granger's face. It was somewhere between pain, anger, and fear. He shook his head as if to dispel the image.

It wasn't like he didn't have other things to worry about besides Potter's sexcapades. Severus sighed as he put his fingers on either side of his temples and rubbed. This year promised to be the most difficult of his thirty five years on this planet. He prayed that he had the strength to do what was expected of him. He was in a very precarious position. Being a double agent was a risky and potentially deadly occupation.

"You should strain that lotus oil before you add it to the cauldron."

Severus turned to glare at whoever had the audacity to question his methods of brewing potions. Instead of an impudent student or well-meaning faculty member he saw the Ravenclaw mascot, Rune. She was a stately dark-feathered eagle who was perched on the back of a student desk. "I told you to never come in here."

"But I can help you!" The bird explained. Rune had been pestering Severus for months to let her be his research and teaching assistant.

"I somehow doubt that," Snape said dryly, deliberately adding the lotus oil to the concoction in its natural state.

"I have been studying potions for five years! I've read every journal article in the library, including all those in the restricted section. And I perch outside your classroom everyday so I can hear your lectures," the bird argued rationally. "I'm so well-versed in the field; I would be an asset to you. Imagine how many journal articles we could publish!" She sighed over the prospect. "I could even net you the Dumbledore Placidity Prize."

"Yes, I'm sure that studying with a bird would do wonders for my career," Snape said sarcastically. "However, I'm afraid that this was time wasted on your part. You could have been twittering to the owls or chasing down a dove for supper."

"I'll have you know that my IQ is very high! I only speak with people, not those simple owls. Might as well be homing pigeons," Rune said as if it were an insult. "Carrying letters back and forth is the sum total of their existence! They have no vision! No perspicacity!" She declared, twitching her tail feathers for dramatic effect.

Snape misinterpreted Rune's movements. "If you leave excrement on my floor, I'll be forced to pull out your tail feathers."

"That was uncalled for! I don't comment on your bodily functions." She looked disgusted. "Or hygiene."

"Will you please just go?"

The eagle puffed up. "This is beyond the pale! I came here to offer my--"

"You came here asking for a favor . . . which I have turned down." He glared.

"Pardon me? Professor Snape?" Hermione's tentative voice called. "A favor?" She'd been listening at the door and couldn't resist joining in the conversation.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Impeccable timing." For the first time since she had stepped into his class, Snape seemed pleased to see her.

"Uh, I do?" She was a little afraid that if she accepted his kind tone as is, she would end up being impudent' or something and lose more house points, which was just embarrassing now that she was a prefect.

"Yes. Could you remove this thing from the room?" He gestured to the eagle.

"THING!" Rune screeched. "I have half a mind to leave excrement on your floor after all. You'll be lucky if you don't find droppings in all your personal cauldrons for a month!"

"You wouldn't dare!" He looked absolutely appalled. Hermione bit her lip to keep a straight face.

"I would dare! You've had this coming for a long time." She flapped her wings once for emphasis. "I am a golden eagle." She fluffed her feathers. "I have an eight foot wing span!" Rune threw out her wings, beating them powerfully and sending papers flying across Snape's desk. "I have an IQ above 150! And I deserve some respect."

"Rune," Snape said softly. Hermione had never heard his voice be like that before. It had dropped another octave, something she hadn't thought possible, and gained a cajoling tone that was sweet, coaxing, and persuasive. She shivered.

"Yes, Severus?" The eagle settled and looked at him, calm once more, seemingly enchanted by his voice and the beguiling twitch of his lips.

"I know you're an eagle. I don't think you're a thing," he told her. She looked pleased with this fact. Then looking about at the mess she had made, looked a little sheepish. She looked up at him, hoping he wouldn't be too mad. "You blew all my papers away."

"Oh, so sorry. Hate to see anyone get disorganized." She hopped down, scooping up a few next to her and then flitted to his desk to hand them to him.

"Thank you, Rune." He very gently stroked the feathers under her beak. "Now, why don't you let Hermione take you to the Ravenclaw rooms, so I can finish this?" Then with just a touch of sarcasm, "I think the two of you will get along just fine."

"Alright, Severus. But this matter is not closed. You need an assistant, and I would be perfect. Our colors even match," Rune added as she turned to face Hermione.

Hermione hesitantly held out her arm, and Rune stepped gracefully onto it. "Hello. I'm Rune. And you are?"

"Hermione Granger."

Rune looked her over disdainfully, jealous of anyone allowed in Snape's classroom. "Pleasure."


Draco Malfoy woke to find himself on the carpet. There were torn bits of fabric and broken pieces of wood littering the floor. He sat up and pressed a hand to his head as a dull ache settled in. Upon further inspection, his bed was destroyed and his trunks were open. The place was littered with his belongings.

Perched on the wreckage that was his bed was Griff-Gruff. "It's about time, Malfoy." He shook his head. "This place is a mess."

"I can see that," Draco said, sitting on his haunches. "What happened?"

"You don't remember? I'd hoped that he didn't cause any brain damage." Griff-Gruff sighed. "But in your case, how would we tell?"

"The last thing I remember is Dobby coming in to-" He scowled at the little animal. "Did you just call me -?"

"Let's not dwell on the past, shall we?"

"That wasn't the past - it was a second ago!"

"Good, you can still tell time. That's essential for a prefect." Griff-Gruff said. "So, it seems Dobby taught you a lesson, eh?"

"Taught me a . . . Bloody Hell! He roughed me up, and then left me on the floor all night!" He pointed to his trunk. "And he threw my clothes everywhere!"

"There, there, Malfoy. No permanent damage done. It's not like you had the secrets to curing cancer locked away in there, right?" Griff-gruff asked, indicating his head with a swish of the tail.

"Dobby did this! Why, I-I'll have him fired! No, I'll have him beat and then fired! Or maybe-"

"Are you quite finished?" Griff-Gruff cut him off. "Correct me if I'm wrong . . . and I'm never wrong . . . didn't your family own Dobby?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Wasn't he treated very poorly?"

"Uh, yes, but-"

"Dobby is very protective of Harry. Did you or did you not take Harry's position in this House?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then, I'm right. You deserved it. Clean it up and move on with your aimless existence."

"But-"

"Stop saying 'but', the only ass here is you." He leapt off the bed and went to the door, clearly feeling that he settled the matter. Griff-Gruff paused to turn around. "By the way, Malfoy. Nice undies." He strutted out.

Feeling thoroughly disgusted, Draco pushed a pair of snake boxers back under the bed. Absently rubbing the back of his head, he began picking up his stuff, muttering to himself. "Stupid Griffins. Stupid Griffyndors. Stupid elves that make friends with stupid Gryffindor Griffins . . ."


Hermione sat at one of the student desks with several roots and a cutting board before her. "Make sure you julienne those," Professor Snape said. "Not slice. Not dice. Not chop. Julienne." Why did he have to be so condescending? She'd have gladly JULIENNED them if he'd asked nicely. She grudgingly agreed to and had the nerve to stick her tongue out at him when he'd turned his back. Thankfully, those rumors she'd heard as a first year weren't true. He didn't have eyes in the back of his head.

He hadn't yet attempted to hold a conversation with her for which she was grateful. Whenever she spoke with him she either sounded like an overeager child or a shrew. She was hoping that he'd forgotten about her altogether. Hermione wanted to explain herself after this morning's fiasco but she couldn't' quite think of what to say. Something along the lines of . . . by the way, not sleeping with Harry. It didn't flow well. When she did figure out what to say she was going to ask him to knock before entering as well.

"Miss Granger, quit mooning over Potter and pay attention to your work."

"I wasn't mooning over Harry," she said defensively. "I was thinking."

He stared at her. "Don't leave me in suspense, Miss Granger. Thinking about what?"

She screwed up her courage. Oooohhhh, bad choice of words. "I'm not sleeping with Harry."

"That's nice," Snape humored her. "You need to make a cleaner cut."

"Professor, I d--"

"Miss Granger, I'm really not interested in the sordid details of your romantic attachments. As long as it doesn't interfere with your duties as prefect, it is no business of mine," he said, sounding quite official and bland. He really wasn't. Severus just didn't want to see a mind like hers wasted on the fancies of youth. A handsome or pretty face was very distracting from things that really mattered in life. Miss Granger could make something of herself if she really tried.

"If I could just explain - "

He held up a hand. "I'm considering this matter closed. Really, we have more important matters to consider. School will be opening soon and Voldemort grows stronger every day. We need to put our energies into worthwhile endeavors."

She scowled. "Are you saying that a relationship with Harry isn't worth my time?"

Snape sauntered over to where she sat. "You said it, I didn't."

"How could you! Do you have any idea of the things he's done?! He might be our last hope. Why I--"

"Thank you for proving my point," Snape added a dash of speckled fly wings to keep the roots from turning brown from air exposure. "See? He's already distracted you from your task.

"Of all the--"

"Yes?" He said, every inch the imperious professor. "Is there something you wanted to say to your supervisor?"

"No, sir, I'm going to sit here and julienne these things." She gritted her teeth and began to cut the roots with a great deal of force.

Severus was amused by her audacity. "When you're done chopping 'me' into little bits, add the lot to my cauldron." He turned back to his potion.

She nearly fell off her stool. Professor Snape made a joke? And he wasn't angry!

"Yes, I have a sense of humor," he said dryly. "Don't tell your friends."

"Er, yes, sir."


Draco Malfoy was having a rough day. He woke up with a knot on his head, and was forced to spend the day cleaning. When he took a break to eat, while the other food on the tables seemed to be perfectly delicious, his was always a little off. His pumpkin juice had started to ferment, his roast was burned, his mashed potatoes were crunchy and when his jelly bean ice cream had arrived, it only contained vomit and booger beans. When the day was finally over, he had been looking forward to locking himself in his room, and indulging in a long hot shower in the prefect's bathroom. Not only was all the hot water mysteriously gone, but someone had taken off with his towels. He was dressed in a pair of deep green pajama pants, with snakes slithering down the sides, and a green terry cloth robe, settled into a cushy chair and ready to record the horrid day in his journal when Professor McGonagall entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, there you are," she said brusquely.

"Something I can do for you, Professor?" He tried to sneer, but he was just too tired, and it came out almost pleadingly.

"Yes. The headmaster has just informed me that Mr. Potter is to make aerial rounds, and I feel it would be in the best interest of his safety if he were not to do it alone. Now I tried to see if one of the Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw prefects would accompany him, but none of them are equipped with a broom of a caliber to keep up. Neither Hermione or Pansy flies well enough, and that seems to just leave you, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco stared at her, a desperate look on his face, as if hoping that any second she would announce that she was only kidding or that he would wake up. "Aerial rounds with Potter?"

"Yes, the first one is at seven, so you had better get dressed and be on your way. Mr. Potter will meet you at the front doors in precisely ten minutes." She stared at him from over the top of her spectacles. "And please be punctual. Gryffindors are never tardy."

Draco watched her sweep out of the room, with a grandeur that only professors seemed to possess. Then, he let his head fall back against the chair. "Perfect."

"You called?" Griff-Gruff strutted and hopped up on the ottoman in front of Draco.

"What do you want?" He stood, sneer back in place, energized by pure frustration. He glared at the griffin, trying to mirror his father's most imposing and imperious look.

Griff-Gruff looked vaguely bored as he jumped to the chair recently vacated and proceeded to settle comfortably on the cushion. "On your way back, you should bring me some cream, still cold, in my dish. The elves know which one it is."

"I'm not bringing you anything!" Draco crossed his arms mutinously. "You let that destructive elf in! I know you did."

"Well, of course I did." Griff-Gruff appeared confused.

"So you admit it!" He announced triumphantly.

"Yes," he said mildly. "So, about that cream . . . I usually have my snack at about eight o'clock, so you should hurry." Griff-Gruff flashed him a smile. "I'm kind of cranky when I'm hungry."

Draco turned in a speechless huff and headed for his bedroom. He pulled on his clothes so quickly, he almost put his pants on backwards, grabbed his broom, and stalked towards the door.

"Draco?"

"Yes?" He sighed.

"While you're getting my cream, get your self a little something to eat, too. You look beat." Griff-Gruff smiled.


Snarky leaned around the corner. "Coast is clear. Mr. Wizard has left the candy store. I repeat: he has left the candy store."

"Let's roll!" Snippy said, like a sergeant marching troops. "Forward, slither!" Then, with a grin, "It's candy time!" They slithered over to Professor Dumbledore's office.

Snarky produced their small radio and cassette player and his friend pressed the playback button with his tail. On the cassette was a montage of students naming candy types. Since they could understand but not speak English, they'd been forced to use the voices of others. Dumbledore regularly changed it to keep them out. Finally, the door came open when Crabbe said "pumpkin taffy."

"Whoohoo!" Snippy said as they slid up the stairs. Inside, they found that the coast was clear. Fawkes wasn't anywhere to be seen. Normally, if he could catch them he would pick them up in his beak and deposit them in The Forbidden Forest. It was quite annoying. Especially, those damned spiders. Snarky had been forced to bite a few of them in order to get away. The spiders had threatened them, saying they had a much, much bigger family. Snippy and Snarky had responded the way they normally did. They made fun of them until they went away.

"Oooh...chocolate cockroaches." Snarky sighed.

"Nummy!" Snippy slid into a candy dish. "And lemon drops."

"You're not supposed to be in here," the Sorting Hat reproved.

"Yeah, we know," Snarky said. They giggled at that.

"I'm tired of you two doing this. I'm going to--"

"What? Bore us to death?" Snippy retorted. "Oooh, I'm trembling!" He gave a mock shudder and turned his friend. "Check me out! I'm all afraid. He's going to ssssscold me."

"Hey, maybe he'll get really mean and sort you into Hufflepuff."

"I'm shaking!"

"I would be! Have you seen their house colors?" He shuddered. Then he picked up a chocolate frog and tossed it to his friend.

"I hope this one's older than the last batch he had. It was so fresh I got a tadpole!" He began to rip at the package. "So, Boring Hat-"

"Sorting Hat-"

"As if there's a difference. Did you come up with a new song yet?"

"You two better leave or I'll--"

"Will you shut up? I'm trying to digest." Snarky waved his tail threateningly.

"Yeah, you don't want to give us indigestion. Or we'll have to find a nice hat around here to regurgitate in."

"That's disgusting!" The hat pulled its ribbons in tight, making a face. Then, looking beyond the candy feast, out the window, it spied something that made it grin. "Fawkes! Fawkes!"

"Oh no!" Snippy shouted. "Bogey at four o'clock! Hit the deck!"

Snarky dived off the table, abandoning his lemon drops. "Get down! Let's move out!" Together they slithered toward the door. "I feel the need!"

"The need . . ."

"For speed." Unfortunately their constant quipping cost them valuable time, and Fawkes swooped down, scooping them each into a claw.

"God-dammit! He's got me." Snippy sighed, watching the ground as they went out the window. "Looks like we're going on an unscheduled flight."

They were forced to go on a trip so they may as well have fun doing it. "And we got bumped down to coach seats." Snarky twisted, looking Fawkes in the eye. "Hey, Sparky! Isn't there supposed to be an in-flight movie?"

"Or a meal? Could we get some peanuts or something?" Snippy glared at the bird. "Well, I say. Somebody could use some manners. Especially when employed in the snake transport business."

"Yeah, looks like we're going to the forest again." Snarky looked disgusted. "I really hate this airline."

"No food, no movie, no recline seats . . ."

"Never goes anywhere you want to go . . ."

"Oh yeah, and no landing gear!" Snippy coiled in anticipation as they glided over the darkening forest. "One . . ."

"Two . . ."

"Three!" They dropped. "Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Thud. . . . . . . . Thud.

"You know what Snippy? I god damn hate this place." He slithered forward, making sure all of his rib bones were intact.

"I hate these landings. The least he could do is drop us somewhere soft. It's not like we have cushy butts to land on." Snippy sniffed. "At least we don't have to deal with any of those stupid little spiders. Pansies."

"Yeah, like having eight legs is going to impress us!" Snarky's laughter trailed off as his eyes suddenly widened. Snippy whirled around to see what he was looking at. There stood Aragog, a spider big enough to spin webs across a quidditch field.

Eyes wide, small figures engulfed by the monster's shadow, they began to back away. "Oh, ssssssit!"


Hermione's hand shook as she knocked on the private chambers of Professor Snape. "P-proffessor? Are you there?"

Suddenly, the door flew open. "Miss Granger. Is there something I can assist you with? Were you bored to tears without Potter around to get you into trouble?"

"Actually, I was hoping that you could help me. I was looking over the potions book for this year, and I can't find the one we're working on, so-"

"Of course not. That potion isn't in any texts a student could find," he sneered. "Do you have to research everything you do?"

Her face fell a little. "I can't help being curious, particularly about potions. There's something about the preciseness of it that appeals to me." She reddened a little, realizing she was trying to justify herself to a Slytherin. She turned to leave. "I'm sorry. I'll go now."

"One moment," he growled. Sweeping the door aside, he gestured for her to enter. He led her through a hallway to a room that was warded with three passwords. He made sure that she stood a distance away as he released the locks. She stepped forward under his arm into the room, and felt her jaw hit the floor. The entire back wall was covered with moving bookshelves. "You should find one over there with a red cover, no title, handwritten. And if you tell anyone I let you see that book, you'll lose more than House points."

Hermione hurried over to the back wall, scanning the books as one by one the shelves presented themselves for inspection. Suddenly, a door in the back, which she assumed must lead to his bedroom, burst open and a large black book came running out. On its cover in gold letters was written, "The Blackest Magic Ever! By Gilderoy Lockhart." A picture of the handsome professor, with his shoulders hunched, and his finger splayed as if playing a scary piano was leering at her. The book faced Hermione and announced, "Duh, duh Duuuh!" Then, it quaked and backed toward the room again, whispering, "ooooooooooooooo. . ." She looked questioningly at Snape.

"Ignore that one. Dumbledore gave me his autographed copy as a gag gift for my last birthday." He gave a small half smile."Well, it made me gag." Then, he scowled at the book that was still lurking in the shadows. "Keeps jumping out of my fireplace."

"Your birthday?" She asked, hoping that he would tell her what day it was. Maybe she could uncover the secrets to his mercurial moods if she knew his astrological symbol.

"Yes, Miss Granger. I wasn't hatched, no matter what the previous prefects told you." He reached over and switched a lamp on so that she could see more clearly.

"Humph. Harry owes me ten galleons," she muttered.

He shot her a sharp look, but before he could ask what she meant, the book lunged out from behind his sofa, startling him.

"I scared you, didn't I? Yeah! I'm scary! Booga-booga!" It leapt in glee and ran off again.

Snape watched as Hermione looked through his books. He could see the one that she was searching for, two shelves up above her head, but he didn't mention it. It was a rarity to find someone who treated books with the same reverence he did. Each one she removed, she held securely in one hand, while inspecting, flipping pages and gently touching the covers with the other in a cherishing caress. It was suddenly a little warmer in the room.

Suddenly, Hermione toppled over as the book reappeared and rushed her. "I'm bad! I'm evil!" It cackled, doing a merry little jig on her hair. Severus moved swiftly, grasping the book by one cover, while its picture gasped in outrage. "Unhand me you blackguard! Can't you read the cover! I'm THE Blackest Magic!" It tried to shut his fingers in the book. "Ever!"

Severus walked to the side of the room and opened the window. He turned the book over so that it got a view of the fall in store for it. He stared at the picture of Lockhart who looked less pleased than he had before. "Booga. Booga." He said deadpan and flung the book out the window.

There was high-pitched girlish screaming all the way down. Then there was a large thud, followed by, "I'm Alive! Yes! Who's the baddest book? Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

"Dammit," Snape said succinctly.

Hermione was staring at him from her position on the floor, wide-eyed and mouth agape. He strode over to her and offered her a hand up. Then, reaching over her head, grasped the book she needed and shoved it at her. "There you are. Be on your way, then. And don't stay up too late reading. I expect you to be up bright and early tomorrow to continue that potion."

"Yes, sir." She walked quickly to the door, clutching the book close to her. "Uh, Professor Snape?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?" He sighed.

"Thank you."


Draco halted about halfway down the last staircase, having spotted Harry Potter standing at the bottom of it, an expression of pleasant dreaminess spread across his tan face. Harry supported himself against the wall with his right hand, while his left hand clutched his Firebolt. As Draco watched, Harry ran a hand through his black hair, rumpling it in a care-free sort of way, and turned his back fully to Draco, leaning against the staircase banister instead of the wall for a moment, and stretching languidly. Never one to resist an impulse, Draco silently descended the rest of the stairs, stopping a moment behind Harry. Leaning forward he whispered, "Daydreaming, Potter?"

Harry gave a jump and spun about. "Malfoy."

"In the flesh." He smirked, sketching a mocking bow. Cupping his hands over the tip of his broom, he leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands, regarding Harry lazily. "How's Slytherin House treating you, Potter?"

"Fine," Harry replied evenly. He was about to ask him how he liked being a Gryffindor, when he finally took a good look at the boy. "What happened to you? You look like-"

"I know what I look like Potter," Draco interrupted him. "Let's get this over with shall we?" And in his trademark Quidditch move, he leaned on his almost vertical broom and it swooshed softly into the air. He turned to arch a brow at Harry, and then continued out the door and into the cool night. The Boy-Who-Lived followed him a second later, and together they began to circle Hogwarts, high enough to be above human reach, but low enough to scan the hedges and shadows that clung to the castle's side.

"Can't believe they picked you, of all people, to keep me safe," Harry muttered as he moved into position beside him.

"I rather thought they were just trying to keep an eye on me," Draco said in an off-hand matter. "Not a lot of trust in Malfoys anymore. Least, not on this side of the fight."

Harry was slightly taken aback by the sincerity in Draco's bored tone. "That doesn't bother you?"

"No more than people asking to see your scar," Draco replied.

"Truthfully, that usually annoys the bloody hell out of me. I've even had it used as a pick-up line. Must be the Wizarding equivalent to 'can I see your tattoo?'" Harry gave a short laugh. Draco didn't even crack a smile, to Harry's exasperation. He'd been trying to make the best of an uncomfortable situation for both of them. "I know you have a reputation to protect Malfoy, but you could pretend to have a sense of humor."

"I have one actually. It usually waits for funny things before making itself known." Draco glared at him and then moved his broom back further. This day was just getting more and more bizarre. "Are you trying to hit on me, Potter?"

"Hit you? Yes. Hit on you? You wish." Harry was dying to ask him about the 'sex god' comments he'd been hearing but decided against it because it would confirm Draco's suspicions. Which were completely unfounded. Completely.

Draco gave a disgusted sigh. "Are you going to keep trying to make polite conversation, or is there a chance of remaining 'inane babble free' this evening? Because I just want to get this over with, head to the kitchens and then to bed - alone, Potter - and forget this whole day."

"Griff-Gruff giving you a rough time?" Harry asked, a trace of a smirk on his own lips.

"Did Snippy and Snarky eat all your chocolate frogs already?" Draco replied as if he could have been saying, "Does Dumbledore have a sweet tooth?"

Harry couldn't prevent a chuckle as he thought about the two serpents gagging around Snape. It had perked his whole day up. He turned his attention back to flying. Despite the fact that Draco was annoying him and he had been moved into Slytherin House, today was still a good day. He loved Hogwarts more than anything; it was his only real home. And even though Snape had meant it as punishment, Harry loved the chance to fly at night. Turning his attention back to his nemesis, he added, "Well, it's to be expected. Griff hates snobs almost as much as he hates liars."

"I see. And you think I'm both of those, do you, Potter?" Draco snapped, irritably. From Harry's shocked expression, he had simply been teasing him, but the subject of Draco's character had been bandied about a bit too often lately for the blond's taste. Draco found himself becoming increasingly sensitive to what people called him. "Why don't you just come out and say the rest of it?"

"Rest of what, Malfoy?"

"What you're thinking." Malfoy spun his broom ahead of Harry, coming to an abrupt stop. The dark haired boy had to pull up quickly and almost smashed into the blond. "You might as well be the first to say what they are all thinking."

"That you're a rank, self-important, little ferret?" Harry glared at him.

"Oh, so naive Potter." He moved a fraction closer. "Do you really want to piss me off? You thought my father had power before, trust me -- that was nothing."

"Are you threatening me, Malfoy?" Harry asked dangerously, moving so close, that Harry could not have turned his broom to the side to get away, and he's be damned if he was the first to back up.

"You'll know when I'm threatening you, Potter." Draco's eyes turned steely silver, colder than a winter's breath.

"You want to duel, Malfoy?" Harry's eyes gleamed in the starlight.

"Do you think you could take me, Potter?" Draco challenged.

"Any day." Harry went to reach for his wand, when a strange sound distracted him. "Do you hear that?"

Draco stared at him for a moment before swallowing, the intensity of the exchange had taken him by surprise. He hadn't realized how fast his heart was beating until Harry had abruptly changed the subject. "Likely story. You could just admit you're afraid. I won't make fun of you anymore than I usually do."

"Shhhhh." Without thinking, Harry placed a finger over Draco's lips to hush him, idly noting the satin feel of the Slytherin's lips. He cocked his ear to the side. "Will you shut up for one minute!"

It had to be one of the weirdest moments he had ever experienced, hovering on a broom at dusk, inches from his nemesis with his hand at his mouth, watching Harry Potter listen to something that only he could hear. But as Draco listened he could sort of hear it. A strange hissing sound coming from the woods. Half a second later, Harry shot past him, speeding towards the imposing forest, nearly knocking Draco from his broom. Out of sheer irritation, Draco followed him, thinking to himself, "This better not be an excuse to get me alone in the woods, Potter!"


The giant spider loomed over them, speaking in a scratchy but dignified voice. "Hagrid? Is that you?"

"That depends. Are you angry with Hagrid?" Snarky asked, still looking overwhelmed.

"I owe my life to Hagrid." They both noted that all of its eyes were cloudy. Obviously, it couldn't see because it had mistaken them for Hagrid.

"Yes." Snippy tried desperately to deepen his voice. "I would be Rubeus Hagrid. Gamekeeper, key holder and teacher at Hogwarts. Big fellow. Not as much candy as you'd think." Snippy looked at the blind spider. "Not as big as you o'course. But then, who is?"

"You are not Hagrid," it announced in a rasp. "Who are you?"

"Professor Dumbledore!" Snarky declared. "Powerful wizard, feared by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Joked-About-Even-By-Snakes, good candy, badly in need of a barber."

"That sounds like parseltongue to me." Aragog resettled his legs in a way that made the snakes feel like squirming.

"He lear- I - I learned it! I took a summer course." Snippy glanced at Snarky and they started to retreat once more, only to find themselves blocked in by arachnids on all sides. "You know what? I lied! I am Voldemort! The only parseltongue in the area! Fear me!"

"Bow down to the evil one!"

"Who are you?"

"Ignore him. That's just my toadie." Snippy tried to sound threatening. "Now, you better move or I'll leave scars on all your children!"

Snarky sneered, "Yeah, it'll look like a sideways Zorro came through here!"

"So you're not the two snakes that bit some of my descendants, then?" Its fangs clicked together, as two spider crawled over his back to whisper to him. "You're not the Slytherin mascots that have been making fun of spiders since we graciously let you leave before?"

Snippy and Snarky looked at each other for a moment, listening to the ire rising in its voice and replied in unison, "No. No, not at all. Wasn't us. Nope."

"Don't think you'll be so fortunate this time."

They tried a different tactic. "Did you know that we're descended from Basilisks? You know what one of those is, don't you?" Snarky asked.

"Great big, frigging snake!" Snippy informed them.

"Let's just say Mum won't be happy if we don't come back." Snarky smiled. "Know what'll happen then?"

"Spider stir-fry, baby!"

"I'm bored with these two." Aragog lumbered away. "Eat them."

The other spiders began to advance. Snippy and Snarky tried to swerve away, but soon became entwined in sticky webbing.

"Be brave, Snippy!"

"You too, Snarky!"

Standing as straight as possible, they took one last look at each other and did the only thing they could do. "HARRY! HARRRYYY! HAAAARRRRYYYYYYYYY! !"