Harry eyed the Slytherin table closely over Sage's shoulder. He was sure that Malfoy was up to something, something that had to do with them. The blonde Slytherin just kept looking over in their direction with a characteristic pompous look on his face, his steely grey eyes piercing. Ron had noticed it as well, and was staring at Malfoy in between sharing confused looks with Harry. Hermione was obliviously eating her lunch facing to Harry and Ron and could not see the Slytherin table. Not that she ever looked over there anyway.

            Sage stared down at his sandwich with a completely disgusted look on his face. He was not hungry and, in fact, had not had much of an appitite for the last few day, and this was his first day back to classes. After his vision and strange dream he just did not feel right. He felt unbalanced. The only things he could think about were the prophecies, Merlin, Voldemort, and how he was supposed to magically feel better. The only 'magical' way he knew to feel better, he knew better than to do, which did not mean he completely stayed away from it. It was only a temporary solution anyhow. He needed something a little more permanent, and nobody had yet invented a drug that good that did no lasting harm. He scowled, and then rested his cheek in his hand. He had nothing to look forward to in the day. Classes did not hold his attention anymore, and History of Magic was like torture, especially since he had failed that test. It wasn't as if History of Magic was going to help him practically. The only thing that would help him was to get his focus back and that certainly was not happening in any class.

            "Well I see we've finally decided to join the rest of the school," a haughty voice drawled from behind him.

            Knowing it could only have come from one source Sage answered, "I'm not in the mood, cousin."

            "Oh, aren't you? Seems to me that you have been doing some rather, extracurricular things that the rest of us have not been privy to."

            Nonchalantly, Sage returned, " I have no idea what you are talking about Malfoy."

            Draco sneered behind his back, "You don't? Well perhaps I'll refresh your memory."

            "Perhaps another time," Sage snapped back.

            Harry stared from one to the other. Apparently whatever Malfoy was alluding to was something that was upsetting Sage. Harry didn't think it was a good idea for Sage to get angry so soon after been sick for days, even if he wasn't completely fond or trusting of Sage.

            Harry glowered at Malfoy, "Let him alone Malfoy and go back to your own slimey table."

            "Oh yeah, Potter, and what are you going to do about it? Since when did a Magi need you to protect him?" He laughed, "Right, since he hasn't been able to do any wandless magic. Perhaps he isn't a Magi afterall, eh Snape?"

            Sage did not show any interest in responding to Malfoy's taunt, but Ron did.

            "You're just jealous Malfoy. But daddy can't buy you magical ability can he?"

            Draco paled, but did not lose his cool, "Now a Weasley sticking up for you! Professor Snape would be so embarassed you know. What a disappointment. But you would not be in such a hurry to speak for him or defend him if you knew what he has been doing every night."

            Suddenly Sage spoke, "That's enough, Draco." He turned and narrowed his eyes as the smaller boy.

            "Is it now? I don't think so. I saw you. All of it. You were learning the Dark Arts from your uncle. What makes you so special, eh, because you're his nephew?"

            "You don't know what you are talking about Malfoy."

            Draco smirked, "I think I do. Don't you think he should be teaching it to his own house? To those who are not magically crippled? You cannot even go two weeks without having to miss class because you are sick. As if you were really sick. Do you think I don't know. You are such a disappointment, it is very clear what is going on."

            "Malfoy, let him alone! He was sick, I saw him, he was nearly dead," Hermione yelled at him.

            "Oh yeah, Granger, then why wasn't he in the hospital wing if he was so sick? I know exactly what you're hiding Snape. Perhaps you all do not see it, but I know the after-effects of the Cruciatus. Apparently Professor Snape is as disgusted with your problems as the rest of us are."

            Sage quivered with anger and clenched his fists. He could not lose it right in the middle of the Great Hall. Not only had Malfoy stuck his nose where it did not belong, but he was insinuating that his uncle used the Cruciatus on him as discipline. There were many things his uncle did do, but one thing he certainly did not do was use that curse on him.

            Ron stood up angrily, "Bugger off, Malfoy. Sage has more magic in his pinky than the whole rest of your family has put together."

            In the matter of a few seconds, it happened. And it happened without warning. Malfoy whipped his wand out and pointed it at Ron. Ron jumped in surprise. But before anything could happen Malfoy was flat on floor between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. Before anyone could have a reaction, Professor Snape was standing over them with his arms crossed and daggers shooting out of his onyx eyes. He stared from one face to the next as the entire school watched in rapt attention. With one fluid movement, he reached down and pulled Sage straight out of his seat next to Hermione, causing Sage to fumble over the bench seats and topple over onto the floor.With half his hair in his face, Sage stared open-mouthed at the Professor as he began to reach down at him again.

            "Professor, wait," Hermione said, grabbing a hold of Snape's other arm.

            She quickly withdrew it as if it were fire as he spun around towards her with anger flairing up in his eyes like rabid flames.

            "Detention, Miss Granger! And don't interrupt me again," he spat, looking down at her with disgust.

            "But, sir," Harry piped up, "Malfoy had his wand out and ready to curse Ron. All Sage did was stop him. Malfoy was trying to provoke him-"

            "10 points from Gryffindor and a detention for you too, Mr. Potter."

            Snape cast his eyes onto Ron, maniacally, he smirked, "I don't suppose you want a detention too, Mr. Weasley?"

            Ron looked from Snape, to Sage, to Malfoy, and then gulped, "Malfoy, Malfoy said he saw you. Saw you teaching Sage, er, things."

            It was close, but Ron managed not to fall out of his seat after seeing the reaction on Snape's face. Thankfully, the look was not necessarily for him, but rather for Draco.

            Snape flung around again, this time on Malfoy, who was still on the floor in shock.

            "I didn't do anything sir, I swear," Malfoy offered, putting up his hands.

            "Silence, Mr. Malfoy!"

            Draco swallowed.

            "Did you try to curse him?" Snape asked, trying to hold his anger in while in front of the entire school. He could not ask about what Draco had seen in the middle of the Great Hall.

            "No sir, I didn't."

            Snape narrowed his eyes deviously and nodded slightly. "Then, Mr. Malfoy, I am sure that if you did not have your wand out to curse Mr. Weasley, there could be no way for it not to be on your person?"

            Malfoy opened his mouth and proceeded to look like a fish out of water, not able to close his mouth around any coherent words.

            "Show me your wand, Mr. Malfoy."

            Draco remained motionless in front of his head of house, apparently unsure of what to do or say.

            He turned abruptly to Sage, without waiting for Malfoy answer.

            "Get up," he ordered irritably, reaching down to grab Sage's collar and help pull him up. "Did you curse Mr. Malfoy?"

            "No sir," he answered dusting off a sleeve.

            "Then why is he on the floor?"

            "Because I performed the disarming charm on him to prevent him from cursing Ron."

            "His wand?"

            Sage put his left hand forward, offering Malfoy's wand to his uncle. "Here, sir."

            Snape nodded and turned to Malfoy once again.

            "How did he get your wand if you did not have it out to curse Weasley?"

            "I, er, sir…"

            The Professor's face was one of anger, aggravation, and disappointment. His voice, however, conveyed nothing but rage.

            "Well, Mr. Malfoy. I should not have thought that you would be one to so blatantly lie to me, but it appears that you have, among other things. I believe we will continue this discussion in my office, you will wait for me there."

            Draco got up off the floor and left the glaring eyes of the Potions master.

            Without Draco to glare at, he turned back to his nephew.

            "As for you. You are neither a teacher nor a prefect and therefore, you are not to get involved in fights. Moreso, you should not be directing any magic towards anybody, no matter what. You have no control and could easily have seriously hurt someone with your carelessness. Especially since you have not been using any wandless magic lately-."

            Sage took a step forward indignantly, "You just want me to sit here and let Malfoy curse Ron from here to next week and not do anything? That's ridiculous!"

            "That's enough!" He boomed, then hissing angrily, "No, what's ridiculous is that you cannot manage to use wandless magic for anything in training and you can use it effortlessly here, for your own purposes."

            "I had to, that's how I managed it! Or else Draco would have hurt Ron."

            "Silence!" He yelled, pointing a long finger in Sage's face. "You had better learn to be able to manage it in your training and your mouth as well," he growled at Sage in an undertone. He walked a step closer to his nephew and scowled. "Enough is enough," he started yelling again, "You're grounded for a week!"

            Fred and George began to snigger from nearby, thinking it very funny for Snape to be 'grounding' someone. He sounded more threatening than their mother, and that was saying something. They began coughing and looking away when Snape wheeled around on them.

            "Don't push me Weasleys! Or you can join your brother and his little friends in detention."

            Sage sighed nastily at the Professor while the man's back was turned. Being grounded for a week might have sounded comical to Fred and George, and half the other students for that matter, but that was like having detention with Professor Snape twenty-four hours a day, for seven days. It most certainly was not funny.

            Sure he would not be able to hold his tongue any more than he had been, Sage began picking up his things.

            His uncle turned to glare at him again. "You will see me in my office after class, for this little episode and your cheek."

            Sage raised his eyes briefly and bit back the words itching to leave his mouth. Instead he answered quietly, "Yes, sir."

            With that Sage walked straight out of the Great Hall, his black leather shoulder bag banging against his side.

            Professor Snape glared down at the dream team Gryffindor's and smiled threateningly.

            "I believe the three of you can serve your detention with me Saturday, starting at 7."

            Harry and Ron muttered their responses, knowing that if they allowed themselves to speak normally, they might just convey how they felt and get into more trouble. Even Hermione grumbled out a very lackluster, "Yes sir."

            Severus let out an irritated sigh as he made his way out of the Great Hall to go and deal with Draco Malfoy in his office. He clenched his fists. He had told the Slytherins that they were not to go looking for him during the hours he was with Sage. Draco, apparently, had broken that. Severus was not one to go easy on his own house when they broke his rules, on the other hand, dissention was normally met with incredibly severe discipline. If he had let the situation go any farther, Malfoy might have announced to the entire school that he, a professor at Hogwarts, was teaching his nephew Dark Arts. That certainly would not do.

*          *            *

            As soon as Professor Snape rounded the corner to his office, he saw Malfoy pacing around in front of the door. Very uncharacteristic of a Malfoy. The boy was worried. Severus smiled maliciously. If he had his way, he would turn Draco away from being like his father before the boy left Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy was incredibly impressionable and was always trying to please his head of house. The boy rarely got any attention, positive or negative. Severus, however, made sure to pay attention to everything going on in Slytherin, especially with Malfoy.

            Inwardly he smiled at how nervous the boy looked as his head of house walked up to him. Not bothering to acknowledge the boy, he opened his office and stalked in.

            "In, Mr. Malfoy," he said as he sat behind his desk.

            Draco was fidgety as he came in and stood there, looking as if he might just throw up.

            "Mr. Malfoy, during what hours did I tell my house not to come looking for me? And not to be by the Potions classroom?"

            The blonde boy swallowed, wishing he had never let his curiousity drive him to spy on Professor Snape. "Between 7 and 10, sir."

            "Tell me then, Draco, how you know what I was doing with Sage?"

            Snape knew that his questions would drag the entire thing out and make Draco even more uncomfortable.

            "I, er, sir-."

            "Stop snivelling Mr. Malfoy, you sound like Longbottom. How did you know?"

            "Because, sir, I looked into the classroom. I know I shouldn't-."

            "Silence!" Snape narrowed his death stare at Draco, making the boy shift from side to side. "You were concerned with things that were not your business, Mr. Malfoy, and you were doing nothing less than spying on me."

            "Profe-."

            "Silence, I said. If I have to warn you one more time, Malfoy, you won't like the result. Now, you did not need me for anything. You just wanted to know what I was teaching Sage and why I told all of Slytherin not to look for me during those hours at the beginning of the year. This is not what I expected from you Mr. Malfoy. Then again, much of your behavior is not where I would like it to be Draco. You are arrogant and hot-tempered, two of Slytherin's worst qualities. For good reason too, boy, because those two qualities will get you killed as fast as any Gryffindor in a bad situation. Now, did you tell anyone else about what you saw the other night? It will be better for you if you do not try to deceive me again."

            "No, Professor, I didn't tell anyone."

            "Not even an owl to your father?"

            "No sir."

            Snape stood up and crossed his arms, regarding Malfoy harshly. After a few very long minutes, the Professor strode up to the boy and loomed over him.

            "You have earned yourself four days of detention with Filch. And, Mr. Malfoy, you will write me a six foot essay on the positive uses of Dark Arts and a small part of the Dark uses of conventional magic. Clear?"

            "Yes sir."

            "Now get out of my sight," He said as he waved his hand in dismissal.

            Draco turned to leave and when he got to the door, Snape said, "And Mr. Malfoy, don't cross me again, and don't be so stupid as to try and curse someone in front of the entire school. I should expect a Slytherin to find a better way to solve a problem or to be a little more covert with cursing."

*          *            *

            Sage muttered under his breath as he pushed straight passed Hermione, Harry, and Ron after Care of Magical Creatures. Draco hadn't said a word to him, or looked at him, for the entire class. Sage was already far in front of the other students, black robes spreading out in his wake, as the rest of the other students started heading back towards the castle.

            A part of him was eager to get everything over with as fast as possible. He did not seem to have an attention span for anything except what had been plaguing his thoughts for the entire year. The faster he got down to the dungeons and into the Professor's office, the faster he could hopefully hide up in his room and ignore existence. Perhaps being grounded would have it's benefits, but then again it was more likely to have him down in the dungeons more often doing Merlin knows what, surely it would not be enjoyable.

            The halls in the dungeons were empty already when he stepped off the last stair and rounded the corner. His eyes adjusted to the darkness fluidly, as if no change had occurred from being upstairs and outside, to being down in the deeper recesses of the castle.

            His knock on his uncle's office was met by a very gruff, "Come in."

            Putting on his best blank face, Sage entered and closed the door behind him. He let his bag fall lifelessly to the floor with a clunk, he wished that he could simply do the same. He avoided Professor Snape's critical and unpleased glower, and proceeded to cross his arms and look down at the corner of the desk.

            "Well?" The Professor asked raising his eyebrow.

            Sage shifted and furrowed his brow on purpose, "Well."

            Severus's chair scraped against the floor and nearly fell over as he stood up with lightening speed.

Sage cringed, bad word choice, he had pushed the wrong button.

Severus pushed his fingers into the desk and leaned over it, a snarl playing on his face.

"Do you not have anything to say for yourself?"

Looking down, Sage answered, "No sir, not anything that would please you."

Sage contemplated moving away as Severus moved out from behind his desk, undoubtedly preparing for a confrontation of sorts. He did not move however, and in an instant the man stood nearly toe to toe with him. Without a verbal reproof for not looking at him when he was speaking, the Professor grabbed Sage's face and forced him to look up. Only then did he release his hold.

"How many times have I told you and warned you, HOW MANY, not to speak to me in that way and in that tone? And in front of the entire school?!?"

"I'm sorry sir. I guess I'm a little thick," he said, having surprising guts considering the look and posture of the Professor.

"Why do you continue this way," the man hissed moving closer, slowly, as if readying for the strike.

"I dunno, sir," he answered, not bothering to speak properly. The use of 'dunno' obviously irked the man, as his uncle cringed at his use of that word.

Snape clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles whiter than chalk. He could not help but wonder why Sage had started acting this way.

Here it comes, Sage thought, looking down once more.

"Look at me when I am talking to you," he paused, "You don't know?"

Sage shook his head that he did not.

Severus grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and then yanked up his own sleeve and stuck it in front of Sage's face.

"Do you know what this means?" He yelled, spraying Sage. He shook his forearm out in front of him and cupped his other hand behind Sage's neck, pulling him down closer to the Dark Mark, just as strongly as Sage was repulsed by it. "Surely you know. Tell me?"

A strange feeling went through Sage and he felt weak. He whimpered, "It's happening."

Severus persisted, "What's happening?"

Sage looked up at him, his icey blue eyes seeming quite lost, "The prophecy, it's starting, He's going to come back."

Sage rubbed his neck after the Professor finally let it go.

"Yes, it is happening, the Mark is getting clearer everyday, and what is our survival tactic? Voldemort is going to come back and not only does he likely already think I am a traitor, but he will have even more evidence that I do not adhere to his ways, that I do not maintain the demeanor of a Dark Wizard. How often have I told you that our survival depends upon our ability to act a role, but not only are you not acting that role, but you are not even living up to my lowest expectations for your behavior. You come from a family that has stature. How do you think it will look when Voldemort is told that Severus Snape allows his nephew to do and say as he pleases? That I would allow you to behave like that without reining you into submission? No family of our prominence would allow their children to act so, Dark or not. The outlook is not good. Not only do I have a disrespectful, ungrateful prat for a nephew, but he cannot even manage his skills as a Magi as well as he could when he was ten years old. Ten, Sage, ten years old. And since you have come to this school, you have learned nothing except how to mouth off. I thought you understood our conversation over the summer better."

"I'm sorry," he answered quietly.

"Sorry, you're sorry? Is that all you have to say? Yes, Sage, thank you. You can disregard everything I have to say and break all of my expectations and 'sorry' will just make it better. I don't give a DAMN if you are sorry or not. You just continue to do it, all of the time. I don't want to hear that you are sorry, I want to see you not do it again. I've warned you plenty, AND I have tried to help you. I have tried to be easy on you, to give you time to work through things yourself. Perhaps I am being TOO easy, perhaps if you have no spare time to think about dying and whatever else it is that you brood about, you will get over this."

"I can't just return to normal. I can't make it stop," Sage said putting a hand up to his head.

"Then who can, Sage. Stop being such a child! For Merlin's sake, you're sixteen years old. So you are going to die. I am going to die, too. So is everyone else. And yes, some of us are going to die before we should. Since I was twenty years old, I put myself out there and ran a gauntlet, knowing that any day, any meeting, could be my last. There was nothing I could do about that, but by accepting that fact, I was given the opportunity to save others' lives. As you are to be given that same opportunity. Do you see no worth in that at all?"

Sage didn't answer.

"I am tired of having to deal with you like this, Sage. You had better stop testing your boundaries with me, my patience is leaving me very fast. Another episode like this today and we may very well both end up dead sooner than either of us would like."

"If you want me to help people then why are you so angry that I did not allow Malfoy to curse Weasley?"

"Because you are like a volatile mixture, Sage, you could go off at any second. You have not been able to hardly do any wandless magic and you decide to do some on another person! Do you not see anything foolish in that?"

"I could have done no worse to Malfoy than he could have done to Ron, and Draco deserves it. Why should I care if I hurt him?"

"Dolt! You have childish logic. How many times do I have to tell you that you could miss your target when you don't use your wand or a gesture? Yet you persist in doing it, even when you have not practiced it. Your focus is nonexistent. You could have hurt any number of people in that hall. Do you understand that?"

"No, I don't understand that. I've never missed, not once. I know that I could not have hurt anyone, because I can feel it. Don't you trust me?" His voice gradually rose.

Sage didn't bother to try and back away from what he knew was coming. He didn't care anymore. He just stood there defiantly and allowed his uncle to slap him.

"No, I don't trust you. You have not earned it. Would you like to know why, Sage? You do not understand how you could hurt people, and you never have. And, moreover, because you do not listen and you are dangerously unpredictable."

"You always told me to listen to what it was telling me and that I should use it to guide me. I do that and you yell at me."

Severus moved inches from his face and hissed, "What you did is called being impulsive, and I won't stand for it. You weren't listening to your powers, you were listening to your anger."

"How would you know!" He muscle fibers tensed at him own cheek.

All in one instant, Sage found his back impacting with the wall behind him roughly.

"Because I did the same thing when I was your age, that's how I know."

Sage's mouth was open and he was completely ignoring the throbbing in his back.

"You could do wandless magic that early! When you were in school."

"Not when I was a small child like you were, but by the time I was your age I could do some. Your father could as well."

"How!"'

"Magical talent runs in families, Sage, you know that. Our line can be traced back thousands of years, to times people do not even know about from History."

"But, sir, isn't that a real rare ability?"

"To do it like you can, or will be able to, yes. But it is not so rare in Pureblooded families to have strong capabilities for doing wandless magic at an early age. So, don't think I do not have any idea why you used it today. So don't try to play me like I don't know what happened. Anger is exactly what you do not want to listen to, Sage. You are not far along enough to listen to what is inside of you. So, you will listen to me and you won't do this again. It is a very dangerous mistake to make. Doing wandless magic on others and listening to anger both."

"I'll try to do better next time, sir," he answered unsure of how well he'd be able to keep his word. He no longer felt whole, no longer felt much control. His actions and his words were spoken on a whim, his motivation a mere skeleton of what it used to be. For the moment, it appeared that the easy way out was the route of choice. Whatever lectures he had to endure along the way were inconsequential. Act now, make excuses and apologies later. Either way, his uncle was never a very forgiving or accepting man, now more than ever. The end results would always be the same. It did not seem to matter anymore whether he kept to his word or not, as much as a piece of him deep inside wanted to.

"Fine. Now get to class. Your grounding starts tomorrow," his uncle barked at him, waking him from his thoughts once more.

He left feeling guilty, feeling as if he owed the man more than he was giving, not more than he was able to give, just more than he was simply giving. For once he understood what happened when a part of yourself died. In one entire sickening and frightening thought, he knew why his uncle wavered so much, why the man did not seem to stick to one persona. As he walked back through the door he knew what it felt like to feel like an outsider watching a part of yourself wither away, and how surprisingly easy it was to just let it go. He frowned, it only took one moment to set it all into action, one selfish thought or angry thought or sad thought if you let it consume you, or perhaps all three combined. He stopped just outside his uncle's office in the corridor and turned around. That was exactly what had happened to Severus Snape, and the thought reverberated painfully all throughout his body. Was this how his uncle felt about what was happening to him? Was he as sickened by the changes in Sage and Sage was in the moments his uncle seemed to be a different man? Did he see Sage, as he was now, as Sage saw the bitter, heartless, unfair Severus Snape?

His mind finally began to understand why the man had tried yelling, detentions, and the occasional slap or two. He was trying to save Sage from the same thing that had gotten to him, the best and only way he knew how, although the two situations were very different. Sage could not be mad because of these efforts, nothing else had worked had it? Sage leaned his back against the wall in the corridor. The realization hit him like a shot in the stomach. He was allowing himself to beat himself.

He rested his elbows on his knees and put his hands in his hair, fighting to breathe. If only I could get a handle on this…I can't just let this happen to me. I can't let what happened to him, happen to me. I look at him yelling and taking points and being unfair and it disgusts me, because I know something more of him. I know what he is when he is not around these prying eyes. He looks at me know and feels those same things. Everytime I was to jump up and yell at him that he is being unfair, there  is another time where he looks at me and yells at me for being something that I should not be, something that I am not.

Standing up, he brushed himself off. If he was going to try and tackle the hold the prophecies and his impending death had on him, he would have to take it one obstacle at a time. For now that was going to class and actually taking notes and paying attention, even if it was History of Magic.

Then, he vowed to himself, he would get help from someone he knew would not discourage him or yell at him or tell him that he could figure it out on his own. He would go and talk to the headmaster.

*          *            *