"I can't find Emma," a voice whispers outside his door. His eyes open. He breathes in and the smell of Emma, curled up against him, makes his heart stop panicking.

"Did you check downstairs?"

"Of course!"

"I'll ask Devlin," says his father, his voice calm and collected. All a lie. Devlin can hear the falseness.

There is a knock. Emma stirs and whimpers and that's all Devlin's magic needs. He feels it at his fingertips and he untangles his hand from under the little body and casts a wandless silencing charm around her. Then he gets up carefully and opens the door.

"We're looking for Emma," his father says.

"She's here," he says softly, even though he knows he could shout.

"Oh good," he whispers, sighing in relief. "Why is she in there?"

"She had a nightmare," he says matter-of-factly.

"Oh," Devlin pretends not to see the confusion in his father's eyes. "Did she try coming in our room?"

"I don't know."

"Is she alright?"

"She's sleeping," he says.

"Alright, well let me tell Alex we found her." He wanders off.

Devlin turns around and peers at Emma, still curled up, her fist up by her face. Suddenly he remembers how she used to walk around with her thumb in her mouth and he wonders if she still does it subconsciously in her sleep. Her red hair is covering his pillow like a halo. He wanders over to her and cancels the silencing charm.

"Emma, you should wake up," he says awkwardly. Last night it had all made sense. He'd just known what to do, but in the brightness of the morning, he isn't sure how to treat her.

He wants to thank his Grandfather. He wants Emma to tell their father so that he can say: "he's not a monster". He wants Emma to keep it all a secret. He wants it to be their secret. He wants to know what to want.

I need to think about it all. Yes, that was the answer: some time to think about everything.

"Emma?"

"Hmm?"

"Wake up. We have to talk before Mum gets here." She rubs at her face. It is such an immature childish thing to do. In that moment, Devlin wants nothing more than to protect her. He wishes he could take yesterday away from her forever.

"Okay." She sits up slowly and looks at him. Her hair is everywhere. It's clear whom she inherited her hair from!

There are footsteps on the stairs. Devlin's heart beats faster.

"Don't tell Mum and Dad until I think about everything, alright?"

"About the red-eyed man?"

"Yeah, about him."

"Alright Devlin," she says, yawning.

Just then the door opens and Alexandra peeks in.

"Emma!" She says softly, smiling. "I was looking for you!"

"Sorry, mama," Emma yawns, smiling back. "I wanted to talk to Devlin last night."

"About what?" She sits down on the bed. Devlin would rather they both left his room. She hadn't even asked if she could come in. 'Grandfather would never ask to come in…'

"I donno. Just talk to him."

She smiles and nods. Devlin breathes a tiny sigh. He had thought that she would try to get Emma to admit to the exact thing.

"How about some breakfast?" She asks, standing up.

"Yeah!" Emma cries, jumping out of bed. "I want pancakes!"

When they get downstairs, Harry has already gone to work. Devlin realizes his mum must have called off. He frowns a bit, if she were this worried after Emma hid from Death Eaters, how would she react to the truth? Maybe it was better to keep it a secret.

OoOoOo

Even though Devlin loves history, sometimes even he can't bare to listen to it for more than an hour. Like right now, he's begged Hermione to be able to sit on the bench outside her classroom and write in his new journal, rather than listen to her lecture for another minute. He'd said it fairly politely, but she'd still given him a peeved look before sending him off 'just to sit on the bench'.

"Mr. Potter!"

He turns the page in his journal, dips his quill, and continues writing.

"Mr. Potter."

He's writing about a particular potion he's been thinking about. He wants to invent a potion that would be more potent than a calming draught but not as potent as a dreamless sleep. Emma is still having terrible nightmares. Children aren't supposed to consume dreamless sleep (something Devlin hadn't been aware of until recently).

"Mr. Potter."

Devlin looks up, finding himself face to face with none other than Mr. Malfoy.

"Hello," he says quietly, reigning in his initial panic.

"I've been calling your name," he says, bending close and snarling.

"I didn't hear you."

"I said "Mr. Potter" three times, have you gone deaf?"

"No one calls me Mr. Potter," he says and he lets a growl sneak into his voice.

"It is more discrete than 'Dubhán', now isn't it?"

"I suppose, but that doesn't make it anymore my name."

Malfoy gives him an appraising glance.

"I must admit, I am startled that they have let you out of their sights at all."

"Hermione is in there," he points across the hall.

"But not watching you."

"No, not watching me."

"How magnificently wonderful." Inside Devlin is panicking. Does he fight? If he fights, Grandfather will know he doesn't want to go back. Does he really not want to go back?

"They'll know it was you," Devlin says softly, hoping to make the man see it is a stupid idea.

"They knew it was me the first time. Besides, your absence has made your Grandfather less than…happy."

Which really meant Malfoy was assigned to retrieving him and was failing and his Grandfather was taking his frustrations out in the form of Crucio.

"I see…"

"Obviously you do not, or you would be standing up!"

There is a wand tucked inside Malfoy's sleeve and he makes sure to lift his arm so that he can see it, ready to aim at him.

He stands up. It is better than being stupefied and put under a concealment charm. Besides, he has his own wand, but he can't use it if he's frozen.

"This way," Malfoy whispers, panic in his voice.

They continue walking (because running, Devlin knows, would attract attention), until they have reached the upper levels of Hogwarts. They're close to the Great Hall, Devlin knows.

"Draco! I wasn't aware you had an appointment at the school…" Devlin spins around to find Severus Snape coming towards them, his cloak whirling around him as he walks. "As for you, Devlin, Professor Granger is very upset to find that you have left the bench at which she had instructed you to remain."

"Sorry, sir," he says softly, trying to look perfectly neutral.

"I was leading young Mr. Potter to the headmaster's office. I told him that I couldn't imagine Mr. Potter wanting him to be wandering the halls alone."

"No, of course not. Devlin, come here." Severus' face is perfectly blank. Malfoy's hand grasps hold of him.

"Surely I can walk to the boy to the Headmaster, Severus."

"I'm afraid I can't allow that, Mr. Malfoy."

"I see…"

"Devlin, come here."

But Malfoy's hand is on his shoulder.

"Really Severus, I'm not sure Harry would want the boy alone with you. You two don't get along very well."

Severus' eyes are blank. His mouth twists into a sneer.

"Do you really think Potter would react well to the news that you were wandering around alone with his son? Hand him over now."

"I can't do that."

"Shall we make a show of it, then?"

"I simply don't feel safe leaving a young child with you, Severus."

"That's interesting. When your father was away and your mother couldn't deal with you for one more minute and you had already tortured the house elf's enough, who watched you? Oh, yes, me, your godfather."

"You loath the boys father."

"Devlin, come here now."

He begins to move. The fingers on his shoulder dig into him.

"He will be so disappointed," Malfoy whispers. "Don't you think?"

For one moment, Devlin hesitates, and then he straightens himself.

"I don't like you. I remember what you did to me when I was little. If you don't let go I'll tell him what you did to me. Tell him I don't want to go with you. If he asks why, you can tell him."

Immediately he feels the fingers release him and Malfoy shove him away.

"You're an ungrateful brat just like your father."

Devlin raises his eyes and regards the blonde man for a long moment.

"Grandfather would be so disappointed in me if I hid anything from him, including that comment."

He strode over to Severus, who grabbed him protectively. Together they watched Malfoy walk the other way and they only turned around when the other man had rounded the corner.

"You are a foolish boy," Severus says, his voice tense, as if he had been holding onto the words.

"Foolish in a brilliant way," he says, grinning at the older man. For one brief second Devlin almost thinks he sees a smile spread across Snape's face, but then it is gone. Perhaps he had merely imagined its presence.

He turns on his heel, Devlin still held against him, and his cloak billows out around them both. Devlin finds it kind of comforting. The fabric is softer than it looks. It smells like potion ingredients.

"Why did you leave the bench?"

"Because he had a wand and I knew he'd get to his before I got to mine."

"I did not know you possessed a wand."

"I do. I've had it for a long time. Dumbledore knows."

"I see." There is a long pause.

"I don't really need it anyways," Devlin says quietly. Something about the man, perhaps because he isn't so desperate for Devlin's approval and so Devlin feels a flutter of desperation for his approval, seems to make him open up more to this man than Harry or Alexandra.

"Don't get a big head," Severus says. "A wizard should always have their wand."

"I know. He used to make a big point about it too…"

Snape looks sidelong down at him, his expression softening for a moment before lapsing back into its default sneer.

"How would he make those points?" Devlin looks up quickly, into the Potion Master's eyes. They are calm and understanding.

"Not like you think," he says, a bit defensively. "He just used to tell me, that's all."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me that's why…"

There is a long pause between them and the only noise becomes the distant sound of student's feet and their own footsteps, leading them closer and closer to Hermione's classroom.

"He used to tell me that's how my other Grandfather died. He said he put it down. Said they were both foolish, because neither one of them had a wand."

Snape's hand tightens around his own until it is almost painful.

"You shouldn't believe anything he said to you about your family, Devlin." Harry would have said he shouldn't believe anything but Severus wasn't that narrow minded or desperate to take the past away from him.

"Yes, sir."

"James Potter was foolish but he was a brave man and a brilliant wizard. Your grandmother was anything but foolish."

Hermione is standing outside her classroom, questioning a pair of students.

"Hermione!" Devlin shouts, racing towards her. He catches her around the middle and buries his head into her belly.

"Devlin, oh Merlin, I was worried."

"I'm okay," he says, sounding confident.

"What happened Severus?"

"Devlin simply ran into an old acquaintance who thought perhaps he was lost."

"Thank you, Severus."

"He's only nine, Professor Granger. One would think you would know not leave a child that age to his own devices. He's just as his father was; a magnet for trouble." He turns to leave, only to come face to face with Harry himself.

"Hi, Severus."

"Hello, Mr. Potter."

"I'd say thanks, but I know you won't really appreciate it, so just expect loads more venom this month."

Snape doesn't even both to acknowledge the comment. He spins on his heel and makes his way down the hallway. A few steps away he pauses and says over his shoulder: "Be more brilliant and less foolish next time, Devlin."

"Yes sir!" Devlin called over to him, smiling.

After much apologizing from Hermione and questioning from his father, Devlin finally got to go home.

"Don't tell Mum," Devlin whispers, for a the brief moment they are alone in the living room.

"Why not?"

"You'll get her worried."

"She already knows you went missing, Devlin. Hermione told us both the instant she saw your journal alone on the bench."

"Oh…"

His father nods and finishes brushing his clothes off.

"We're home!" He shouts.

A small pair of shoes come racing around the corner. Emma rushes towards them and makes a dive for Devlin. He only just manages to stay on his feet.

"I was so worried the scary man had taken you!" She says, burying her face in his shirt. Zee walks into the room, trying to look regal, even with the kitten following him, jumping in the air and batting at his tail.

"Even Emity was worried," Emma says softly.

"Yeah, she sure looks worried," he says sarcastically. The moment he speaks, the kittens eyes turn to him, bright and alert and she races over to him. He waits for the inevitable, closing his eyes as she climbs up his clothes.

She purrs and her magic vibrates through the air and awakes his wolf. His wolf seems to understand her, just like Padfoot seems capable of understanding her.

'Mmmmine," she purrs, rubbing her head against his cheek.

"I don't like that, you know," he says to her. She draws back and looks at him, then repeats the motion.

"Mmmmine."

He sighs.

"See, she was worried about you!"

"I think she just missed her climbing post," he said. Although, deep down, he knew Emma was right. The cat had claimed him. Why, he wasn't sure.

Emma giggles and Zee barks and Devlin says, not for the first time, 'I didn't pick her, Zee.' The dog barks again, as if to say 'but you haven't gotten rid of her, either!'

Humph, 30 something of you viewed the last chapter, but no reviews. Whatever. I'm still seeking a beta reader. Thinking of transferring the story to elsewhere.

Anyway, what did you think?

Upcoming: 'It's a bit creepy, isn't it? I mean, 'Dear Mr. Potter'….'

'Creepy does not even begin to sum this up, Hermione.'

'I Suppose so…'

The Potter's get a letter. From who? Well, just take a guess.