A/N: Two chapters in two days! Can you tell I felt guilty about the long absence? This is a slightly shorter one, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

Thank you as always for the reviews and kind words. The journey continues!

Chapter Eleven: Mission Interrupted

It was suicide. They all knew it. Severus Snape couldn't be outsmarted, and not by a group of first years. Deep down they all knew their odds of getting away with it were nearly impossible. And yet, those simple two words which had managed to complicate so much of human history were now complicating theirs- what if. And with enough people repeating those two words, suddenly it all seemed possible, at least within the confines of the tiny room behind the tapestry of Chiron the Centaur.

They had to be sensible about it, that was agreed on from the beginning. If they were sensible, they had a chance. And if they had a chance... well, that was enough to keep them going. If they could fool Professor Snape on something like this, it meant the man who somehow knew if you hadn't flossed well enough wasn't as godlike as they thought. And if that were true, well, the possibilities for mischief were limitless. While Harry wondered deep down if they weren't severely underestimating their housemaster, he too couldn't help but be drawn into the fantasy.

Every evening that week they squeezed into Club Slytherin, their new name for their hiding spot, which was just as crowded as ever as it still included Tracey and Daphne, who'd agreed to be lookouts back at the dorms even if they were too nervous to come along.

"Probably for the best that you're too chicken," Draco said, leaning over a sheet of parchment, his blond hair nearly brushing against the ink. "We need someone back at the home base to make sure Professor Snape doesn't walk in and discover we're all missing."

"And what exactly are they going to do if he does walk in and find just Daphne and Tracey?" Harry asked, watching as Draco drew a wobbly line representing the northern common room wall. "It'll be over then and there. There's no way for them to warn us he knows, and even if they could, it would be too late."

"We could lie," Tracey said quietly, though her face was appropriately deeply apprehensive at the idea of lying directly to Snape of all people. After all, it was one thing to not tattle; it was another to lie directly to his face. "We could say you're clear on the other side of the castle, and while he's searching for you we could find you and bring you back before he returns."

"Great plan," Theo said sarcastically. "We lie to him on top of already being caught. He'll already know we sneaked out at that point; he'll murder us all when he realizes you gave him bad information."

"He'll murder us all if he catches us out of bed in the first place," Vincent said glumly, as though this whole thing hadn't been his idea.

"He won't," Daphne said, "Because if Tracey or I hear him coming down your corridor or ours... one of us will run straight to him."

"Run to him? Are you barmy?" Harry exclaimed. "Do you want to get his attention?"

"We'll be running to him because we'll have just woken up from a nightmare," Daphne said, a light in her eyes that most of them had experienced themselves several times while concocting their plan in the cramped quarters of Club Slytherin. "If you have a nightmare, a really bad nightmare, not just a scary dream, and you're a first year, Snape takes you to his office, and lets you have warm milk, and sits with you while you tell him what it was about."

"How do you know that?" Greg asked. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"I didn't," Daphne said quickly, then glanced sideways at Tracey, as did Millicent and Pansy, who in turn glared at the lot furiously. "You said you wouldn't tell anyone!"

"I didn't tell anyone, you did," Daphne shot back, to which Tracey replied, cheeks red and fists balled, "You implied it! You told! You said you wouldn't!"

"It's all right, Tracey," Harry said quickly. "No one cares if you had a bad dream. If anything, it's a good thing to know. It could save our skins."

"What was the dream about?" Draco asked, a small sneer curling the corner of his lip. "Your little stuffed rabbit come to life?"

"I don't have a stuffed rabbit!" Tracey cried out, which was a lie; everyone knew about Blinky, which was, in fact, in her knapsack at that very moment.

"Lower your voices, will you?" Millicent snapped. "We're going to be heard. We're not that far from the common room."

Tracey, deeply wounded but still able to struggle on across the battlefield, glared at everyone around her but dutifully said with the air of a martyr, "I'll do it. I'll have the fake nightmare, if he comes to the dorms."

"No, I'll do it," Daphne said. "Snape already gave you warm milk, he might not do it again."

"If that's how you feel about it," Tracey conceded, with all the airs of a dramatic actress in the middle of a Shakespearian tragedy.

Harry found it exceedingly difficult to picture snarling Snape of all people sitting with a first year with warm milk, letting her tell him about her nightmares. He seemed much more like the type to snap that it was just a dream, and to go back to bed. But then again, he had shared tea with Harry in his office and spoken to him almost like an adult after the incident with Neville, and had been practically kind to him. Harry supposed it wasn't the most impossible thing in the world. The image of Professor Snape with a warm glass of milk patiently listening to Tracey Davis' nightmares was still difficult for him to process, however.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Tracey asked after a long moment, doing her best to push aside her outrage at her nightmare and subsequent comforting by Snape being revealed.

"We're too far in at this point," Draco said, continuing work on the map. "We can't turn back. Besides, it's too late for you to change your mind. You took the Unbreakable Vow."

"That really wasn't an Unbreakable Vow," Pansy said for the umpteenth time, rolling her eyes.

"It was too!" Draco snapped back just as impatiently, then moved back from the parchment and pushed it forward for everyone to see.

It wasn't perfect. In fact, it was far from perfect. The hallways leading from the dorms to the spiral staircase that led to the dorms was too long, and Draco's attempt at drawing the common room was too squat. The various corridors leading to the stairs to the Great Hall were all wrong proportionally, but they were at least in the right places. It was enough to start planning their journey, and that was what really mattered.

"It's all right," Harry said after they'd all studied it in silence for a very long moment. "It could be worse, at least."

"Thanks, Potter," Draco said dryly. "Without your approval I don't know what I'd do with myself."

Severus wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh his arse off or storm out of his office to the tiny space behind the tapestry of Chiron the Centaur and wallop the entire Slytherin first year then and there. Or better yet, in front of the entire Slytherin common room. He'd held off on the latter every night thus far this week, so he supposed he could hold off a bit longer though, good Lord, it was tempting. As rare as the desire came to him, however, the desire to laugh was genuine as well, however much he desperately tried to deny it, mostly because the little monsters really thought they were getting away with their monumentally foolish little plot.

There was a knock at the door and Severus swore under his breath. He rose to his feet from the armchair in a corner near the door that had been a Christmas present from Minerva. He usually stuck to the straight-backed cushioned chair behind his desk, not because it was more comfortable, but because it made him feel more productive. Today, however, he had good reason to sit in the aforementioned armchair.

He opened the door and found Terence Higgs waiting in the corridor, clutching a leather-bound book. "I've come to return Martin Chuzzlewit, sir-"

Severus weighed his options for a brief moment that stretched out much longer in his mind than the few seconds they actually consumed. He could just inform the boy that he was busy and slam the door in his face; it wasn't as though that would be unusual for him, not at all. If anything, it would be highly typical. The boy was his Head Prefect, however, and if Albus would pull his head out from between his legs for once and genuinely consider a Slytherin for Head Boy, he would be a strong contender for the position next year.

"Come," he said quietly, crooking a finger inward, then placing it against his lips.

Higgs gave Severus a strange look but obeyed, and the latter realized he still had a trace of a smile on his lips. Bollocks.

"Is everything all right, sir?" Higgs asked in a hushed voice as Severus shut the door behind him and summoned over one of the armless wooden chairs facing his desk so it sat adjacent to the armchair next to them.

Severus placed a finger to his lips again, then lowered himself into his armchair and motioned for Higgs to sit as well. He'd just reached for his glass of scotch when Potter's voice emerged from a small grate in wall that led to a vent, just where wall met ceiling, directly above Severus.

"It's all right. It could be worse, at least."

"Thanks, Potter," came Draco Malfoy's disembodied voice as well. "Without your approval I don't know what I'd do with myself."

Higgs froze, then realization washed over his face as the conversation continued.

"The sizes are all wrong. But it'll work."

"The sizes are fine. I'd like to see you try and do better."

"Oh, do stop competing," came Pansy Parkinson's voice. "We don't have the time for it."

As quietly as he possibly could, Higgs turned to Severus and asked, "The tapestry of Chiron the Centaur?"

Severus nodded. "It seems as though, right on cue, the first years have discovered it, and convinced themselves they're the first to have done so."

Severus couldn't quite blame the first years for wanting a space away from the other students, and respected them for taking the initiative to do something about it instead of sitting around the common room sulking and moaning about their rotten lot in life. He did, however, judge them for not thinking their new spot through.

"Honestly," he said, summoning over an instantly-filling pot of tea and a teacup for Higgs, who was eyeing Severus's scotch with far too much curiosity. "Do they really think a spot like that would be abandoned by all the other students?"

"It's so close to the dungeons," Higgs agreed, pouring himself a cup before summoning over the milk and sugar himself like an old pro. "And it's hidden, sir, but not that well hidden."

"And yet every batch of first years thinks they're the first to stumble across it, and the first to use it for their own plans," Severus said, shaking his head slightly. "Understandable, I suppose. They haven't had time to really put their logic to use yet, and perhaps it hasn't occurred to them to question why such a prime piece of real estate isn't being used by their older classmates. But I thought one or two of them might be sensible enough to think twice about the space, at least this year. There are a couple of sharp ones among my usual sea of incoming dunderheads."

"We didn't figure it out either, sir," Higgs pointed out. "When we found it in my first year. That you could hear us, I mean. Not until you caught us in our schemes several times, sir."

"And what does that say about your year, Higgs?" Severus asked dryly, but before Higgs could answer they both fell silent to listen to the conversation filling the study.

"Once we're out of the common room, we'll make our way to the stairs by the portrait of Gwydion," came Draco's voice once again. "Not the main set to the Entrance Hall. Too risky, even after midnight. We might be caught."

Higgs' eyebrows shot up and he appeared ready to say something, but Severus just shook his head so they could keep listening.

"Don't those go all the way up to the second floor?" It was Tracey Davis this time, hesitant but very much committed to the ludicrous cause the Slytherin first years had concocted. "You'll nearly be there at that point."

"Exactly," cut in Millicent Bullstrode's excited voice, perfectly audible no matter how much she tried to lower it. "From there it's just one more flight-"

"The stairs right by the broom cupboard where MacMillan lost his lunch last week." Vincent Crabbe this time, with a hearty guffaw at the memory.

"-and we'll be near the secret third floor corridor."

Higgs glanced sharply at Severus again, who just shook his head and whispered, "Not that corridor. Different one."

The children went over their plans for several more minutes, detailing and refining their exact paths, as well as backup plans if something were to go wrong. Severus had to admit they were remarkably clever, but not nearly as clever as they thought they were. Before long they were exiting the room and shuffling back to the Slytherin common room before they were missed, and Severus let out a dark chuckle.

"Fools, aren't they?"

"Sir," Higgs said, his voice still low. He cleared his throat and spoke in his normal voice now that it was just them. "You seem..."

"Amused? Tickled? I suppose I am, somewhat." Severus wasn't smiling anymore, but he wasn't flying about the office in the sort of murderous rage Higgs seemed to be expecting, in search for his ruler.

"I'm just surprised, sir," Higgs said, glancing at the housemaster's glass of scotch and perhaps wondering how many the man had before he had shown up. "It doesn't seem like you."

"Is that cheek, Mr. Higgs?"

"No, sir," Higgs said quickly. "Not at all. I just-"

Severus waved a hand and Higgs fell silent. "Don't get me wrong, I'm equally furious with them for being under the impression I'm as moronic as they apparently think I am. And there will be hell to pay, you can count on that. But..."

Higgs nodded slowly. "Back when my year discovered it, and we made plans to set off firecrackers in the seventh years' dorms..."

"A remarkably bold plan, if I might say so."

"Not as bold as sneaking all the way up to the third floor in the middle of the night, sir," Higgs protested, but he couldn't hide his pleasure at the near-compliment. "Anyway, you let us get to the seventh year dorms and actually toss in the firecrackers before appearing out of nowhere. And the time we decided we were going to hide the Gryffindor team's gear before a match, sir, you let get all the way to the Quidditch pitch before turning up."

"Professor McGonagall would have had my head had I actually let you go through with that one," Severus said, shrugging as he sipped at his scotch.

"But that's just my point, sir." Higgs leaned forward. "You let us go through with it. You never let us actually get away with it, but you let us go through with our plans at least partway instead of just swooping in the moment you found out. I just... well, I've always thought it was a bit strange, sir. You have so many rules and you lose your mind we so much as think about breaking them- but you always let the first years get so much further in their plans than anyone else before stepping in. Doesn't it just encourage them, sir?"

Severus studied Higgs for a long moment, then said, "I thought you were smarter than that, Higgs."

Higgs' ears turned bright red, and he stammered for a moment before Severus continued. "Go on. Think about it for a moment. Why would I want the Slytherin first years to work together behind my back?"

"Well..." Higgs thought it over for a bit, his ears still red. "I suppose because it means they're working together for a cause, sir. That they're united on something."

"And what kinds of families do these children come from? What kinds of families do Slytherin children come from?"

Higgs fell silent once more, the unspoken 'What kind of family do you come from?' hanging in the air. Severus knew Terence Higgs' father, William, quite well. He was a large, imposing man of few words who hadn't taught his son much, but instead deeply impressed upon him that Terence could trust no one but himself, his father, and the Dark Lord, if and when he returned.

"Have you noticed we haven't been graced with any further fistfights between Misters Malfoy and Potter in the common room, nor have there been any additional aggressive aeronautical incidents?" Severus gestured his head toward the vent. "They're bonding, even if it is over something ludicrous. The more those children bond with one another and learn the world isn't what their parents taught them, the easier it will be to lead them away from the paths their families have set for them."

"Especially with Potter," Higgs said quietly, almost to himself. "I suppose it helps that they're getting to really know Potter, sir."

"And the Davis girl as well- her father is a Muggle, and I know there are numerous parents who would rather their children not associate with the girl because of it." Severus shook his head slightly. "Those first years have been so insulated in their own worlds, and there will come a time when they have to make difficult choices, along with ugly confrontations. If they're going to make the right choices, they're going to need to learn how to survive in families that don't agree with those choices. They're going to need to learn to be subtle, smart, cunning..."

"They're going to need to learn to hide things. There's so much my father doesn't know about me," Higgs murmured, almost against his will, and he glanced up at Severus, almost embarrassed, and added a quick, "Sir."

"And who taught you the skills you needed to do that?" Severus couldn't help but look remarkably pleased with himself, then shook his vanity aside, as much as he enjoyed relishing in it now and then. "I'd rather they learn those skills under my eye than behind my back. They need to learn to stick together, and to develop bonds that aren't just with their families. Especially if the Dark Lord returns."

Higgs' face darkened. "You don't think...?"

Severus didn't answer, instead refilling his glass of scotch, and Higgs didn't push the subject. Instead, he said, "Thank you for letting me listen in, sir."

"It's not a reward," Severus said, his tone stern but devoid of any actual anger. "I'm disgusted with you for not picking up on their plan on their own. What kind of Head Prefect are you?"

Higgs ducked his head sheepishly. "Sorry, sir. I'll be more diligent."

"You most certainly will." With that, Severus rose to his feet and placed the copy of Martin Chuzzlewit back on his bookshelf. "Or next time I'm lending you Ethan Frome, and no one deserves that."

"What are they even doing to begin with, sir?" Higgs asked as Severus lowered himself back into the armchair. "I know they're obsessed with dueling, but I thought they wanted to do that in the trophy room. And if they're not sneaking off to the forbidden corridor..."

"A secret passageway to some abandoned classrooms," Severus said, waving a hand. "Little known by most students, and no, I'm not telling you where. The third floor is far too much for me to patrol regularly on top of my usual known spots for wayward Slytherins."

"I'm not wayward, sir," Higgs protested, but he didn't push the subject. Instead, he pushed an even less likely one to get an answer on. "About the forbidden corridor..."

"You'll learn nothing from me, and if I see you anywhere near it you'll never be able to sit comfortably again," Severus said casually. "And then we'll discuss the possibility of expulsion. Head Prefect or not."

"Yes, sir," Higgs conceded. He'd expected nothing less.

He glanced back up at the vent at the top of the wall, then at Severus. "May I ask, sir..."

"Go on."

"How did the space come to be? And why is it connected to your office, sir?"

A corner of Severus's mouth crooked up before dropping again. "Took you long enough to ask. Though few students ever do, even after they've figured out the connection between it and my office and find somewhere else to cause me headaches." He leaned back in his chair. "Do you know what this office's original use was?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. It's been some time since I read Hogwarts, A History."

"It was the Hogwarts Inquisitor's office back in the 1100s," Severus explained. "And that small space behind the tapestry was an interrogation cell. The wretched souls within would occasionally find themselves sharing their cell with a Boggart. As the interrogator obviously wouldn't want to risk the creature transforming into their greatest fear, so..."

"The poor sod could confess and still be heard," Higgs finished for him. "That's horrible, sir."

"Indeed," Severus said, though he didn't seem outwardly concerned for the fates of those people long since gone centuries ago. "It makes the fate of our Slytherin first years seem tame in comparison, doesn't it? Though it won't seem that way to them."

"It won't, sir," Higgs agreed, thinking back to his own various reckonings with Professor Snape, and feeling very lucky he wasn't in the same shoes of the unwitting first years about to face it firsthand.

The castle was different at night. Saturday evening, Harry, Draco, Vincent, Greg, Blaise, and Theo crept down the hallway to the spiral staircase to the common room as quietly as they possibly could ten minutes past midnight. They paused at the stairs and waited a moment, glancing down the adjacent corridor to the girls dorms.

"They've chickened out," Draco whispered, begrudgingly lowering his voice further when everyone around him motioned for him to. "They aren't coming."

"Millicent and Pansy, chicken out?" Harry shook his head. "Millicent won't back down from anything, not once she's made up her mind."

"Me neither." The boys all jumped as the two girls rounded the corner of the corridor. Pansy raised her eyebrows. "My name might suggest otherwise, but..."

"Enough talking," Blaise whispered, and gestured to the stairs to the common room. "As quietly as you can- it creaks."

As they crept up the spiral staircase to the common room, Harry glanced down the corridor to the girls dorms once again. Tracey poked her head out from the girls' room and gave a nervous grin, followed by a wink. Harry waved back and turned toward the stairs, steadying himself. No turning back now.

"They've just started up the stairs by my portrait." Gwydion appeared in the frame of former Headmistress Burke, who jerked awake from a deep sleep and huffed angrily at the intrusion.

"Thank you, Gwydion," Severus said, nodding at him. "I appreciate your assistance in this matter."

Gwydion tipped his hat and disappeared almost as quickly as he arrived, though Headmistress Burke continued to grumble long after he left. Severus sat with his legs up on the table he currently occupied in the teachers lounge. Contrary to popular belief, he derived no pleasure from being hard on his students, nor did he enjoy punishing them. All the same, he had to admit it was a cunning plan and took no small amount of bravery from his young Slytherins to even think about attempting. It was also a stupid plan, but it was a start, and made him hopeful that this year's batch might be capable of great things down the line.

Of course, right now they were a group of eleven-year-olds who hadn't quite thought their plan through as thoroughly as they should have. Severus glanced at his watch and rose to his feet. He'd let them get to the hidden classroom and go through with their foolish duels, all the while standing outside to make sure they didn't inadvertently kill one another. Not that they were capable of such a thing, not with the spells they knew, but Severus knew how quickly unmonitored magic could go wrong. His rules were in place for a reason, after all. Something they'd come to learn the hard way when they finished up and found all six-foot-two of their furious housemaster waiting for them.

There was just one thing to get out of the way first. Severus exited the lounge and started toward the dungeons, and from there, the first year dormitories, not realizing just what an absolute fiasco the next two hours would unfold into.