Christmas passed and the boys returned to Hogwarts, armed with memories of a wonderful break and the knowledge that there were two more people waiting to welcome them home once the term ended. With that in mind, they threw themselves into their schoolwork with renewed vigour and soon re-established their Hogwarts routine.

Everything seemed to have settled into a comfortable lull. Even Quirrell no longer seemed the frightful man he had been. The professor still scowled at Harry or snapped at him unnecessarily, but these instances grew further and further apart. More often than not now, the stuttering man could be seen staring contemplatively at the pair, a curious expression on his face. He had yet to make a move however, that would draw the attention of the pair's caretakers.

Harry took advantage of Quirrell's reprieve and threw himself back into the man's subject with his original enthusiasm. No longer did he study hard simply to ensure that Quirrell would not have an opportunity to belittle him; he poured over the texts because he was genuinely intrigued by the information they contained. Everyone noticed that Harry was no longer plastered to his mate's side during the class, and for the majority of them it was a relief. None of them liked seeing Harry in distress; he was their beloved little brother. The remainder still sneered or whispered snidely to each other about the pair, that is, until someone threw a glare their way.

Time flew quickly and soon March was upon them, the pressures of mid-term now a distant memory. Free of the stress, Harry and Draco lazed among the newly grown grasses, sometimes alone, other times with their friends. At such times, wrestling matches were inevitable.

Millicent cheered loudly for the squirming boys while Hermione simply snorted, returning to her readings. Cho was right among them, beating Cedric into submission, much to the older boy's amusement. They rarely ever decided upon a winner, their only rewards for their activities being the sound scolding the house-elves gave them for the grass stains on their uniforms. (Harry of course was always thrust to the front where his innocent expression always distracted the irate elf).

It was nearing the end of March and the mates were returning to their quarters after a riveting Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. The snakes narrowly managed a win, their seeker edging out his eagle counterpart at the last moment to ensure a win for Slytherin by a slim margin of ten points.

Harry had cheered for the green team from his space besides his mate. He looked out of place among them, his red and gold tie a sharp contrast to the green and silver around him, but he was perfectly contented. His friends had even heeded his calls to them and eventually joined him amidst the other snakes.

The trio caught the notice of those seated in the teacher's box, and expressions ranging from shock to satisfaction were reflected on their faces. In the previous academic year, had someone even dared to suggest that Gryffindors could be seen side by side with Slytherins, cheering for said house, they would have been spirited away to St. Mungo's. Nevertheless, here were a trio, obviously completely at ease with the rival house and it all was a result of the dark haired child waving at the seeker who teasingly dived at him.

Harry had inspired the change. True, at first the houses had been ordered to put aside their rivalry for the sake of the mates. However, as time passed and the school grew to know Harry, changes started to occur. The snakes saw that Harry was not the stereotypical lion. Many had heard rumours of him outsmarting his mate and even the potion master himself on several occasions.

He had gone head to head with Peeves in a staring contest a few weeks before and had stood his ground no matter what distractions the poltergeist sent his way. The child showed a cunningness that would make him perfectly suitable for Slytherin. Indeed a few wondered how he did not end up with them in the first place.

The Slytherins were not the only house to recognise that it was possible for students to reflect qualities of different houses. Harry certainly was as smart, if not smarter than the Ravenclaw students, and he showed a loyalty to his friends that would make Helga herself proud. Watching a fellow lion interact so comfortably with the rival house, made some headway with the lions and now there were several tentative friendships although so far none save for Harry wandered between house tables at will.

The snakes were celebrating their victory with a party in the common room and Draco was keen on going. If it was one thing Uncle Sirius had been successful in teaching him was that it was alright for him to "let loose" occasionally. No one would hold it against him if the Malfoy heir shirked a few societal rules and had fun like a regular teenager. The renegade Black had sat him down one day and informed him that in no way was it fair that Harry be allowed to act freely while Draco was forced to conform to societal dictates.

"You need to let loose! Prank a few people, ditch a class or five!" Sirius had laughed; dodging the pillow Severus sent flying his way for attempting to corrupt his godson.

Draco had listened to his new uncle (but then who wouldn't after being threatened to have their hair charmed permanently into pigtails?). His mate had wholeheartedly agreed and thus once they had returned to Hogwarts, the veela relaxed himself considerably, allowing Trix and Dobby to help him. He had to admit that the added freedom was enjoyable, and the slight pangs he felt for letting others pick up after Harry or ensure that his bag was packed soon faded.

Harry however did not share his mate's enthusiasm for the party. He felt rather tired and the idea of spending a few hours among dancing teenagers and loud music did not appeal to him in the least. No matter how excited Draco was about the event, all he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and rest for a while. The problem was that Draco would decide to stay with him and the little lion did not want to ruin the elder's fun.

He knew that he had to find a way to excuse himself from the party without his mate deciding to accompany him and with the way the veela fussed over him, it would be no easy task. Sometimes Harry thought that his mate cared about him a bit too much, always willing to sacrifice his own pleasure for his sake. He really wanted the blonde to have the time to relax without him.

As such, even as they walked towards Slytherin, the dark-haired child found himself debating the best way to get out of attending the party. He finally chose to turn the table on Draco and use his own mannerism against him. Plan of action decided, he stopped, and Draco who was loosely clasping his hand felt the movement and turned puzzled eyes on him.

"Harry?" he questioned, studying the smaller child. Had he looked towards his own wrist, he would have seen a kitten yawning widely, climbing into the hole of an "O" and curling up.

"I don't want to go to the party Draco, I'm tired," he admitted, meeting his veela's eyes. "Can I go back to our room?"

Concern instantly flashed across the Malfoy heir's face. Harry was never one to pass on the opportunity to have fun so his request now was slightly disconcerting. "Do you feel okay?" he asked with a furrowed brow, reaching out to feel his forehead. His mate scowled and batted his hand away. Who would have thought that only hours later he would crave for such a touch?

"I'm tired, not sick," he protested, a bit of heat in his tone.

His annoyance mildly reassured the older boy. His mate's temper was sometimes short when he was tired. Reassured that his mate was indeed fine, a feeling of disappointment worked its way into the Slytherin. He had been looking forward to the party, but now it was obvious that he could not go. Harry was more important to him than any social event, but he couldn't help but miss the fun he would have had. However, his logic won out as it usually did. He reasoned that it was only a small sacrifice and repeated it constantly to quell his negative emotions. Before he could speak however, his little mate spoke again.

"I'll be fine alone Draco. Go to the party."

Draco's teenage side cheered instinctively at the words. Harry had just given him permission to go and he was tempted to accept then and there. His veela side pushed him into prudence though and despite the urge to simply agree, he allowed his nature to surface.

"It is quite alright Harry. I prefer to stay with you than the Slytherins. Come on, let's go back."

To his surprise, Harry stood his ground, a frown forming on his face.

"You will do no such thing," he declared, his expression a good imitation of Severus. "You will go to the party."

"No Harry..."

"Oh no you don't!" Harry interrupted. "I can rest by myself. Why should you hang around doing nothing while I sleep?"

"I'll study," Draco protested, a bit disconcerted by the role reversal between them.

Tiredness made the smaller boy a bit cross and so he levelled a glare to his mate. "Draco Malfoy, you will go to the party and you will have fun."

"But..."

"But nothing!" he declared, stumping a foot for emphasis, before his tone softened. Was this how Draco felt when he was being difficult? "I'll be fine Dray. Trix will make sure that I am fine and if you're not back when I wake, I'll call for Hermione okay?"

The veela was about to point out that it was his and not Hermione's duty to stay with him, but the look in Harry's eyes deterred him. The boy obviously wanted him to go, judging from his expression. His cub was right. Being asleep, Harry would not really feel his absence and it wouldn't be the first time Hermione amused him.

Harry loathed sleeping without him there to help him drift off, but it was obvious that he was willing to forgo that comfort and only to ensure that Draco was able to spend time with his friends. It was heart warming the care his little lion was showing to him and finally he allowed his teenage side to prod him into acceptance.

"If you're sure..."

"I'm sure. Please Dray, go meet Blaise." Harry stepped forward and rested his head onto Draco's chest for a few moments. "I'll be fine alone for a few hours. Go on Dray," he finished, pulling away.

Long elegant fingers reached out to brush a loose strand away. "You'll go straight back to our quarters?"

"And straight to bed," Harry agreed. "Go."

Draco shook his head ruefully. "One would wonder who's in charge the way you're ordering me about so."

Harry chuckled slightly, the sound becoming distorted by a yawn. "Be a good boy," the child teased, waving his hand. A soft call and Trix appeared. Immediately seeing Harry's tiredness, she started shooing him in the direction of their rooms, leaving a softly smiling Draco to make his way to the snake common room.

Harry and Draco were not the only persons that Quirrell observed. He kept a careful eye on the man who had been stalking him since his arrival at Hogwarts except that the said man seemed to be growing increasingly lax in his duty of late. What could have made the potion master become relaxed so suddenly?

Several times recently, Quirrell had been able to waltz out of the castle, at no time having to check that he was not being watched. Although he was curious to know the cause of Snape's distraction, he was not above using it to his advantage and thus had set another scheme on the way. This one was more elaborate than the latter and was sure to bring success. He could not fail this time, not after the severe punishment his master had dealt him on the last occasion.

He had thus spent hours pouring over plans, first on how to secure the Socerer's Stone and secondly how to capture Harry Potter. At some times he regretted not killing the child at Halloween when he had had the chance, but at the time he had seemed negligible. However now he could clearly see that the child was more powerful than most wizards and that power would surely increase further with maturity.

The dark lord slept soundly now, preserving his strength for when Quirrell managed to claim the stone. He knew though that the master would appreciate the extra prize. Either the dark lord would claim the brat for himself and find a way to utilise his immense powers or kill him, destroying the light side's symbol for peace.

The dark lord's servant had no clue what sourced the boy's extraordinary powers. The Potters had been no extraordinary wizards, and neither were any members of their ancestry. Yet they had produced a child with enough power to level countless wizards if he ever chose to do so. Quirrell contented himself with the belief that the dark lord would surely figure out what he a lowly servant had been unable to.

The opportunity to put his plan into action finally came after the Quidditch match when he had been lucky enough to stumble across the pair alone, conversing softly. He had been unable to hear their words and did not care to. All he wanted was for them to become lost in their discussion to the point that neither would notice him until the spell dying to slip past his lips had been cast.

It took all of five minutes before the moment came, and unexpectedly there was a bonus. The boys separated, heading different ways. If he had been so prone to, Quirrell would have sung for joy. They had unknowingly made his plan much easier for now he would not have to render one unconscious.

The corridor remained clear as he stalked behind his chosen target, his steps light to ensure that he was not heard. He slunk against a wall when the boy paused before the entrance portrait, murmuring the password. In the second before the portrait swung open, the spell flew loose, striking the boy. His body jerked reflectively as the spell absorbed. He shook his head lightly, as if trying to clear it before climbing through the entrance.

Satisfied Quirrell replaced his wand and walked away, a contented smirk on his face. He crossed paths with Snape as he headed for his office, but chuckled silently at the man's glare. He had already set his plan into motion and already it was too late for Snape to intervene. Let the man glare at him all he wanted. He hoped that the glare was still in his eyes when Quirrell finally killed him. He closed his office door with a click, deliberately leaving it unlocked as while he summoned a tumbler and sat, waiting for a particular student to come to him.

Draco nearly choked on a mouthful of butter-beer at a joke from Blaise, while those around him roared in laughter. The party was in full swing and he was having the time of his life, dancing and mingling with the crowd. His thoughts occasionally drifted to his mate but for the most part he went forgotten while the veela enjoyed himself.

At one point Pansy tried to attach herself to his side, obviously trying to take advantage of Harry's absence. But after her second attempt to grasp his hand resulted in it turning bright orange and her enraged shriek ending on an opera note, she retreated.

"Score one for Sirius," he murmured, accepting another drink from Blaise.

The event ran on for hours, but eventually Draco started to feel a pull, calling him. Had he really been away from Harry so long? He judged its strength and determined that he had at least another hour before the call grew urgent and settled back, certain that Trix would appear should Harry need him before then.

But as the minutes passed, his attention to those around him waned. Blaise was the first to notice and easily pulled the veela into a corner, asking him if it was time for him to leave. Draco assured him that he still had time remaining, but after a few more minutes of prodding agreed and gathering a parcel with goodies for Harry, he left Slytherin.

His senses were being drawn by then, and used to it the veela gave into his feelings, allowing them to automatically lead him to the one he desired. Unfortunately for him, this time the calling did not lead him to his nine year old counterpart, but to a darkened room where a grinning man rose, as if expecting him.

He came to awareness at that moment, and the bag dropped from his fingers as he realised exactly where he was.

"How..." he began, but could not continue as an immobilisation charm followed quickly by a silencing spell hit him. All he could do was glare at the approaching man, his mind screaming at him.

"Finally alone," the teacher breathed, staring at the petrified student as if he was a precious gem. "My plans are finally coming to fruition my little Slytherin. My master will be pleased."

Master? Draco's mind asked, even as he sought for a solution to his dilemma. He was frozen so his wand was inaccessible to him and although he could passably use wandless magic, his fingers could not move to direct it. He was effectively trapped and there was little chance of being rescued.

Blaise had seen him leave and would not expect to see him until breakfast and even then would not find it suspicious if he did not turn up. Students had the option of dining in their rooms on weekends and he and Harry often took advantage of it. His mate as well would not be overly concerned. He had not given him a timeframe in which he would be back, so until their pull became unbearable, Harry would remain ignorant to his absence. He was at the mercy of the man before him; much like his mate had been months before.

"Deep in thought? Do not waste your time. You are not leaving here until I am ready for you to." Quirrell smirked at the flash of emotion in the veela's eyes. "Don't worry little Malfoy. You will not die today. Unfortunately I need you to bring your mate to me...and for that you shall live a while longer. Now..."

Draco panicked as the man raised his wand, and instinctively went into himself, his nature rising to try and protect him. For a moment, he felt as if a bit of himself abandoned his body and unknown to him, on the other side of the castle, Harry jerked awake, clutching his chest. But then the moment passed and the veela felt a spell seeping into every nuance of his being.

All at once, he was filled with a sense of revulsion as he felt Quirrell's magic rushing through his veins. It felt like slush was invading his body, stifling him and the feeling only increased with the spell's intensity. His own magic fought, trying to repel the powerful spell, and although it gave a valiant effort, the dark magic took root. Draco's eyes glazed and even in his petrified form, his body slumped slightly as he felt himself being buried beneath Quirrell's alien magic.

Far away, Harry frowned, a sudden sense of dread filling him as he disregarded his robe, stepping out of the corridors in little more than his pyjamas. Trix's call went unheeded, his footsteps quickening as he felt that instinctive pull to find his mate. He didn't know how, but he was certain that Draco was in some sort of trouble.

Quirrell's dank breathe rushed over Draco's face as he twisted his head to one side then the next, judging for the spell's effectiveness. When the boy's eyes remained blank, he went to work, murmuring commands into the veela's ear. The boy's eyes flashed as each command registered and finally Quirrell allowed the spell to dissipate. Once the child left, he would not even remember having met with Quirrell. He would simply feel compelled to fulfil all that had been asked of him.

Slowly the veela regained consciousness, and as he did, Quirrell released his previous spells, causing him to slump bonelessly to the floor. Quickly he cast the required memory charms and left the room, completely certain that by the end of the week his master would return in all his glory.

His door was charmed to act as a one way mirror and so he watched with glee as the veela collected himself, glanced around in confusion before departing, bending once to collect his bag. His mission would soon be complete.

"Draco!" Harry called sharply as he turned a corner and saw his mate hurrying towards him. The feeling in his chest remained, even as he ran into the older boy's arms, clutching him tightly. He reared back quickly though...something did not feel right about the boy watching him puzzled.

"Harry, why are you in the corridor in your sleeping clothes?"

The boy glanced down at his apparel before dismissing it. "Are you okay? I felt something..."

"Come along," Draco interrupted, grasping his hand. "We'll not talk while you are so indecently exposed."

Any response from Harry was cut off by the strong grip on his wrist as he was dragged back in the direction he came from. Numerous times he resisted the urge to yank away. The spot where Draco held him stung minutely and it bothered him. Draco seemed different and he tried to figure out why even as a bag with party snacks was thrust as him while the veela stalked off, muttering something about changing his clothes.

The ache had not dissipated in the least. He still felt that sense of urgency, that feeling that his mate was in danger that had him leaving the comfort of his bedroom in the first place. The blonde seemed to be in a much better countenance when he re-emerged. He pulled the smaller boy close to him once he had seated himself, unwrapping a tart from its parchment and bringing it to Harry's lips. Normally such a silly gesture would have earned a chuckle from the child, but today it only increased his unease.

Touching Draco brought a slight twinge of pain, one vaguely familiar. It caused him to cast fugitive glances at his mate as time passed. Draco made no move to speak, and the robotic movement of the hand rubbing up and down his arm held none of the affection it usually did.

Eventually Dobby appeared, bowing slightly as he indicated that it was time for Harry's bath. Draco dismissed him, ordering him not to return until directly summoned and extended the command to Trix as well. The elf looked about to protest when the veela reinforced that they were to leave Hogwarts and not return until summoned, but in the end had no choice to obey. Their original orders had been given by Draco himself. If the young master chose to rescind them, no matter how strange it seemed, it was not his place to argue.

The order had Harry's breath hitching and he hurried into the bathroom, locking it before pressing his back against it. Now he was certain that something was wrong. Why would Draco effectively remove his guards? Without the elves constant presence, he was once more vulnerable.

He remembered the day the elves had arrived.

His mate had stressed that he was not to go anywhere without someone supervising him, going so far as to make him swear an oath. Disregarding the oath would find him immediately transported to the corner of his room. His mate had tersely continued that should he find himself stuck in the corner, he should relish the act of sitting comfortably while he could.

The elves' dismissal, without Draco indicating that he was no longer bound to the oath meant that he was effectively trapped. He could make no move to leave their quarters without Draco, or else he would find himself stuck in the corner. Not that he was worried about a spanking at the moment, it was the fact that his mate was not as he should be. He did not like feeling oppressed and only minutes after the elves' dismissal, he was beginning to feel it.

He was literally bound to his mate's side unless he was in the presence of someone Draco trusted and somehow he did not see that happening until at least Monday. No one would even blink an eye, simply assuming that the two mates had decided to spend the weekend alone. Harry's fingers were shaking as he undressed and entered the shower.

For the first time in memory, he was afraid of his mate.

Deep within his mind, Draco was fighting a battle against the entity in him. Even as he ordered Dobby to leave, a part rebelled, trying to override what was controlling him. It was no easy task though. He felt as if he was moving through slush, so thick that every movement towards control took tremendous effort. He could see that his efforts were failing and soon enough the elf disappeared. He screamed in rage, hearing the echo of Quirrell's words.

He couldn't do it. There was no way the man could expect him to follow those ludicrous orders. The thought of it had him struggling again, trying to grasp control, if only for a few seconds to allow him to raise an alarm. However, nothing happened except a faint laughter and he slumped down in defeat.

He saw through distant eyes his mate coming out of the bathroom, fear apparent on his face. He was torn between despair and joy. It was obvious that his mate realised that something was wrong with him, but there was nothing he could do to help. The order had locked him into the room and Draco knew Quirrell had ensured that he not allow Harry to leave until class time Monday.

He groaned as he heard his voice order Harry off to bed in a chilling tone. Harry all but fled the room and Draco was certain that he heard the distinct click of the lock. Thank Merlin the boy had the foresight to lock himself in, although it would do him no good should Quirrell decide to speed up his plans.

Draco lost awareness of how much time passed as he struggled, intermittedly launching attacks as he attempted to dispel the entity. He spent so much effort on it that he lost track of what was happening with his body. Thus he had no clue how Harry was being prevented from signalling that all was not right. In all actually he was afraid of knowing what had been done to his mate in order to gain obedience.

The thought alone had him trying for the umpteenth time to find a weakness. Direct attempts proved useless and as of yet he had found no way to ease around it. The only thing that prevented him from surrendering and becoming the tool of his mate's destruction was that small spark that he felt deep within his recesses. It was severely dampened by the alien magic around it, but it was still there. The fragment of Harry within him refused to be smothered.

He had turned to that light constantly in his struggles, its small flicker prompting him forward. Now was no different, and as he watched, the flame danced as if waving to him. So much like Harry, always calling to him. A slow warmth enwrapped the veela as his mind streamed thoughts of the green-eyed boy; simple irrevalent memories flicked by. Each one of them lessened his depression minutely until he saw that the flame was now a fire, roaring brightly and calling to him.

Draco...

A shock ran through the veela as he heard the whisper of his name. It was Harry, his voice soft and unsure as it came again.

Is that you?

It sounded nearer and the veela pulled himself to his feet. The movement was a lot easier this time, the force that usually combated against him absent.

Draco...DRACO...

The flame calling to him was Harry. Harry was calling to him,which meant that he was seeing him, the real Draco and not the farce imitating him. He pushed forward at once, moving as quickly as he could manage towards the flame, knowing that if he immersed himself in it, he would be free.

He could not reach it though. A sudden force pushed him away and he fell with a cry, struggling to rise and reach the flame, the soul of his mate. Angry howls filled the void as Draco fought the unseen entity...and slowly lost the battle. But not before he was able to glean what exactly bound Harry from escaping and shout several words that he hoped reached his mate and released him.

The days passed painfully for the little boy as he walked behind his mate. The title was dubious at the moment as he was now certain that the person striding besides him was not truly his Draco. His Draco would not have invoked the veela rights on him, forcing him into complete subservience.

No matter how much he had tried, in the few moments when he was not plastered against the blonde boy, he was unable to signal that something was amiss. Not even Uncle Sevvy, who was usually so alert, noticed anything wrong in either boy's demeanour. The man had even fallen for "Draco's" explanation and had scolded him severely for even thinking of uttering the "f-word" he had heard from a couple of fifth years. Only yesterday, the man had snapped at him to buck up, accept his week's grounding with grace, and be grateful that he had not had his bottom smacked as Severus himself would have done had he been the one to hear him.

But there was a slight difference today as they sat in their common room, Draco at a desk and Harry on the divan. He had noticed nothing at first, but soon his attention had been drawn to Draco whose face was scrounged as if in pain. He had put aside his book in concern, because no matter how shoddily he had been treated this week, he still loved the figure before him, even if he was certain that all was not right with him.

Expressions flitted across the veela's face, some faintly recognisable, others alien. Eventually Harry placed what was familiar about some of the expressions. They were Draco, his mate and not the shelf before him. Those concerned expressions were his veela and as he saw that they appeared more and more frequently, his heart raced. When one expression remained fixed for almost a minute, he ventured closer.

"Draco?" he whispered, prepared to reel back should the need arose. There was no movement at first but then the blue eyes flashed showing signs of recognition. It gave him hope and he began to speak to the boy before him, seeing that each word brought another flash of life to the dull eyes.

All at once, Draco's body gave a sudden lurch and his eyes widened. As their eyes met, Harrry felt his mind inundated with a welt of images – memories he realised before Draco's lips parted.

"I release you from all dictates," came a hoarse shout from the veela's voice in a tone that was his mate's. "Run Harry!" he screamed again, before the expression faded, and the cold mask returned, expression furious.

Harry heeded him instinctively and turned, running. There was a shout from behind him and he felt a hand grab at him. He whimpered and instinctively shifted his shape, now small enough to escape through the portal. The fact that he was able to continue proved that Draco had broken the vows and it was with relief that the kitten raced down the hall to his uncle's room, screaming the password the second he transformed. He barely saw his uncle's look of shock as he barrelled into him.

"Draco...wrong...help..." he gasped, wringing his uncle's robes as he collected a breath.

"Harry, calm down." Severus' arms instinctively wrapped around the breathless boy, offering comfort even though he had no idea what had driven him to such a state. "What's happened?"

Harry was unable to answer, the shock of finally being free and able to speak the truth rendered him a wreck. He heard a muttered oath from his uncle as the man felt his shaking before his head was raised. His eyes met his uncle's and immediately he felt his mind being searched. He allowed it, clinging weakly. His uncle's arms tightened around him as he withdrew.

"Dear Merlin," Severus gasped, shock and concern in his voice.

Still grasping Harry to him, he shouted for a house-elf. A tiny one appeared and he ordered it to get the headmaster and bring him here immediately. As the elf left, he picked the trembling child up and set him on a chair. He was filled with guilt now at how he had treated Harry the past few days, although at the time he had thought it deserved.

"Listen Harry, Albus is coming now, I'm going to Draco and help him."

"I want my Draco," Harry whispered, curling his arms around himself. "Bring him back to me."

"I'm going for him," Severus reassured.

As loathe as he was to leave Harry in his current condition, he was safe here. It was Draco that needed him right now. Stroking the boy one last time, he left. His wand was in his hand as he entered the boys' quarters, a spell already spilling from his lips. But there was no one to cast the spell on. The common room was empty and a quick check revealed that the rest was vacant as well. Severus almost dropped his wand as a single thought raced through his mind.

Where was his godson?