A/N: Thank you as always for the reviews! I appreciate all of them deeply. Dark Angelx1992, funny that you mention Snape's cover with the Slytherin parents- the subject has a brief mention this chapter, then goes into much further detail in future chapters. It's not quite the same as the books, but it's definitely a hassle for him to deal with! Whether his current setup holds up later on, when the return of Voldemort is much more imminent, well... we shall see, won't we?

Chapter Twelve: Escapades

Tracey clutched Blinky to her chest, sitting on the floor next to the slightly ajar bedroom door. The beds around her were empty except for Daphne's, all stuffed with clothing and bedding to appear as though her dormmates were fast asleep under their covers. She held Blinky a bit more tightly, then shot Daphne a look.

"Don't tell-"

"No one cares about your stuffed rabbit, Trace," Daphne said. It came out far sharper than she'd intended. Her entire body was tense with nerves thinking about what would happen if Professor Snape discovered their plan.

Tracy ducked her head, cheeks bright red, and Daphne hesitated. In a gentler voice, she added, "I won't tell anyone. I don't know how Draco found out, but it wasn't me, or any of the other girls. I promise."

Tracey nodded slowly, gazing down at the tattered rabbit, too embarrassed to make eye contact. She absentmindedly fiddled with it's one long ear, the one that hadn't had an unfortunate incident with a rottweiler several years prior. "Do you think I'm a baby?"

Daphne paused, trying to decide if she was going to be honest or not. Tracey noticed the pause, and her cheeks flushed.

"I don't want to be a baby," she mumbled under her breath, releasing her grip on Blinky.

"You aren't," Daphne said after a long moment. "My sister Astoria has a stuffed dog she still sleeps with."

Tracey looked at Daphne suspiciously. "Didn't you say your sister is nine, though?"

"Does it really matter?" Daphne said, trying to think of what her mother would say in this situation, if her mother even knew one of them still slept with a stuffed animal in the first place. She hadn't tucked either of them in in years. "Besides, I've seen you hold your own against Draco when he's being a tit. And you don't throw tantrums like he does."

The pair fell silent. Tracey poked her head out into the hallway, then pulled it back in and pulled the door nearly-shut so that only the tiniest sliver of light escaped in.

"If we get caught..." Daphne trailed off, then plowed forward. "You don't think we'd be expelled, do you?"

Tracey hesitated. Even in the near-darkness Daphne could see the look on her face at the very idea. Then, after a moment, she shook her head.

"No," Tracey said, with a bit more bravery than she felt. "He'll kill us, but he won't expel us."

"Comforting thought."

"Professor Snape threatens to expel people all the time, but my mum told me only three Slytherins have been expelled since he started teaching." Tracey rested her head against the wall alongside the cracked door so as to hear any potential footsteps. "And it was all at once, because they did something really bad together. They weren't sneaking out at night to play. They were seventh years."

The two girls fell silent, the thought of making it all the way to their seventh year before being kicked out hovering in the air. It almost seemed too horrible to comprehend.

"Sebastian Bole. And Thomas and Elizabeth Rowle, wasn't it?" Daphne asked after a moment.

"You know the story?" Tracey reached for Blinky, then thought better of it and just shifted him closer to her side.

"I think so," Daphne said, then shrugged. "Not really, to be honest. My mum and dad said it was political and that Professor Dumbledore made Professor Snape do it. And that it was really over a lot of nonsense."

Tracey didn't reply, nor did her expression change. Only after the two had sat in silence for another long moment did she say, "Do you want to know?"

Daphne got up from where she sat cross-legged on the bed and walked to where Tracey sat against the door. Sliding down against the stone wall so they were side-by-side, she nodded. "Did your parents tell you?"

"I overheard my mum talking about it to my dad a couple of years ago." Tracey didn't quite make eye contact with Daphne when she said, "He's a Muggle."

"Yeah, we all know that, Tracey."

"Well, that's just it, isn't it?" Tracey said with a small smile. "Everyone knows my dad's a Muggle. That's why they were talking. He was worried about me going to Hogwarts."

"But that's silly," Daphne said, tilting her head slightly. "No one treats you any differently."

"Yeah. And that's new," Tracey said, still not quite able to make eye contact, looking very much as though she regretted bringing up the subject in the first place. "My mum was telling him about how much things have changed since she was here. When my mum was at Hogwarts, there were a lot of attacks on students who weren't Pure-bloods. When Professor Snape started teaching, the war was over, but Slytherin was still... well, the way it used to be."

Daphne fell silent, thinking of the Slytherin from her parents' stories, before Professor Snape was in charge. She suspected they toned down quite a bit of what went on, but the things they did tell her certainly wouldn't fly under Professor Snape's Slytherin. Not even a little. For the first time, she wondered what some of the parents thought about the changes that had occurred, especially certain parents.

"My parents weren't Death Eaters," she finally said, looking at Tracey, embarrassed that this conversation was even occurring. She'd been told by her parents not to discuss politics or the war at school and to focus on the new world, not the old one. "I want you to know that. They're... you know, traditional in a lot of ways. When it comes to marriage, and that sort of thing. But they didn't support him. Never."

"So they're the kind of traditional that think my parents shouldn't have married or had me, but also don't think we should be killed for it?" Tracey said with a small smile. Then, at the look on Daphne's face, she quickly shook her head and said, "No, really, it's all right. I'm just making fun, just a little. There are much worse views out there than the ones your parents have. And either way, I'm not going to judge you based on something your parents believe. Mum and Dad say you should never assume people believe what their parents do. My mum doesn't agree with her parents on anything. They haven't spoken since before I was born."

"I don't think your parents shouldn't have married or had you," Daphne mumbled. Now she found herself the one unable to make eye contact. "I never thought about it much until I had to, but I think all of this blood business is rubbish."

"I think so too." Tracey found now that she wasn't worrying quite so much that Professor Snape would burst in at any moment that the knots in her stomach were loosening ever so slightly. "It's silly and I don't see why anyone cares."

"What did Sebastian Bole and Thomas and Elizabeth Rowle do?" Daphne asked after they'd thought that over for a moment.

"They hexed a Muggle-born Gryffindor girl with dark magic so badly she was in the hospital wing for a week," Tracey said matter-of-factly. "She very nearly ended up in St. Mungo's, and my Aunt Sarah said it could have been even worse than that if Professor Snape hadn't found her in time." She added, "She was a sixth year then, my Aunt Sarah. My mum's little sister. She's part of the side of my family that still talks to us. It was a big deal when it happened."

Daphne didn't reply. She hadn't known any of this, and now that she knew what had actually occurred the expulsion seemed much more reasonable. She wondered if her parents knew the full story. Perhaps they didn't; it seemed impossible that they'd call a story like that 'political nonsense'. After all, they hadn't been Death Eaters.

"That's awful," she finally said. Then something occurred to her. "Sebastian Bole. Is that Lucian Bole's...?"

Tracey nodded as Daphne trailed off. "His older brother. I don't think he likes to talk about it. But he's always really nice to me, even though he's a fourth year and we're just first years, so he doesn't have to be. He's nice to all the Muggle-borns and half-bloods."

"I can't imagine what it must be like to have a brother who was expelled," Daphne said, exhaling slightly. "Especially for something like that."

"Me neither," Tracey said, pulling Blinky into her lap once more and absentmindedly stroking an ear. This time Daphne didn't judge her for it. If she had all the things swirling around her mind on a daily basis that Tracey must, she'd probably clutch a stuffed animal at night too.

"If anyone ever gives you a hard time, you tell me, all right?" Daphne said, giving Tracey's shoulder a light shove. "Or one of the other girls. We look out for one another here."

"Don't worry. If anyone gives me a hard time, I'll punch them myself," Tracey said with a small laugh, and she lightly shoved Daphne's shoulder as well, as the two giggled at the idea of Tracey actually punching someone, but there was something behind her small smile that Daphne couldn't quite read, something so genuine it almost hurt.

In the distance, a soft, repetitive sound became audible. The two girls froze. The sound grew louder, and as it did, its source was undeniable; someone was walking their way.

"Is it...?" Tracey clasped a hand to her mouth as Daphne poked her head out the door just as Professor Snape rounded the corner.

"Get in bed," she hissed, and Tracey obeyed, Blinky forgotten on the floor beside her. She nearly turned back to grab him, but it only took one fierce look from Daphne to quash that idea.

Daphne inhaled deeply as she peeked out the doorway again. Professor Snape was headed directly their way. It didn't take much effort to pretend to look frightened, because she was, and as she stepped into the hallway Daphne prepared to put on the performance of her life.

The castle was different at night. Harry stared up at the high windows, watching the moonlight stream through them to the corridor they now walked through. He liked windows. The enchanted ones in his dorm had a view of the depths of the lake. His cupboard hadn't had a window. It hadn't had much of anything. He was glad to have windows now.

"Shh!" Blaise motioned for everyone to stop moving. The group of eight froze, just as a small, furry figure rounded the corner.

"Crap," Draco hissed under his breath, then, to Mrs. Norris, he added, "Go! Shoo, cat!"

"Are you mad?" Millicent snapped, shoving him aside roughly. She then turned to Mrs. Norris and knelt down. "Hello, there, girl. Hi, Mrs. Norris."

Mrs. Norris fixed a very intense look on the girl. Harry had only bumped into Mrs. Norris a few times as he made his way around Hogwarts, but he could tell the ancient, frequently-crabby creature was far more intelligent than any of the cats on Privet Drive, except perhaps Mrs. Figg's cats (who, to be fair, lived on Wisteria Walk, not Privet Drive). He held his breath as the cat stared at Millicent.

"I know, girl." Millicent held out a slightly trembling but friendly hand. "I know we're not supposed to be here. But we're nice to you, remember? Remember how Pansy and I gave you some bits of fish as a treat? Remember how Tracey pet you for nearly half an hour last week?"

"She's a cat, Mil," Blaise hissed as Mrs. Norris took a slow step toward her. "She doesn't understand you."

"Of course she does," Millicent shot back. "She understands Mr. Filch, doesn't she?" To Mrs. Norris, she said, "I'm sorry about him. He hasn't properly met you yet."

"I've met her," Blaise protested, but Millicent shook her head stepped closer, looming over the boy. "Not properly, you haven't. Go on, then. Say 'Nice to meet you, Mrs. Norris'."

"What? I'm not saying that!" Blaise looked around at the others for backup. "She's a cat!"

"Say it!" Millicent looked as though she was about to put Blaise in a headlock, something Harry wouldn't put past her.

Torn between stifling his laughter at the absurdity of the situation and being terrified out of his mind that they were about to be caught, Harry leaned forward, tapped Blaise on the shoulder, and whispered, "Just do it, Blaise."

Blaise glared at the lot of them, then knelt down beside Millicent. He cleared his throat, then stuck out a hand as though they were about to shake. Swallowing back his pride, he said, "Well, hello, then. Hello, cat. Sorry to be rude. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Norris."

Mrs. Norris fixed him with an intense look, one Harry couldn't quite decipher, then she gave his outstretched hand a perfunctory headbutt before turning to Millicent and giving her a much more warm, albeit brief, nuzzle.

"There, now, you're a sweet girl, aren't you?" Millicent asked. Gesturing at Blaise, she glared and added, "And he's a very rude boy, but he means well. You're nice, like us. We don't call you names or say mean things about you like the Gryffindors, or the Ravenclaws, or the Hufflepuffs. We're Slytherins. We like you. We're your friend. We pet you, and give you toys, and treat you how you deserve to be treated."

Mrs. Norris rubbed the side of her face against Millicent's hand again, faint purring audible.

"We're just having a bit of fun, but we're not causing any trouble. I promise, Mrs. Norris. You're not going to tell Mr. Filch, are you?" Millicent asked. "Please don't tell Mr. Filch. Please."

Mrs. Norris pulled back and studied them for a long moment. Then she turned back toward the direction of Filch's office and began to walk- incredibly slowly. Filch's office was two floors below. At the rate she was moving, it would practically be sunrise by the time she reached the caretaker.

Millicent grinned. "If that's the best you can do... thanks, Mrs. Norris."

A faint meow that sounded almost like a growl but not quite echoed back to them, and they were off once again.

"You're absolutely insane," Draco said as they scurried down the corridor, breathing heavily with fear and exhilaration at escaping certain detection.

"I just like cats," Millicent said with a shrug. "Mum and Dad say I can have one next year if I pass all my exams."

"We're going to have a cat in the dorm?" Pansy asked, her voice going up at the end of the sentence in her excitement.

"If I pass all my exams," Millicent repeated, but she was smiling too. "And if we don't get caught tonight and shipped back home tomorrow morning."

"You're all absolutely barmy," Blaise said, but he was smiling widely, mostly at joy from not having been discovered. "Out of your minds, especially you, Millicent."

"I try," Millicent said with a smile of her own as they rounded another corner.

"Shh!" It was Harry who silenced them this time, but he didn't need to- they'd all heard the sound of footsteps just behind them. They turned around, but no one was there. "You heard that, didn't you?"

Nods all around. They stood in silence for a long moment, but Snape didn't swoop out of the shadows, nor did anyone else. After another beat of hesitation, the group continued on their way, much more quietly than before.

Barely ten minutes before, Severus had found himself marching through the dungeon corridors, directly toward the girls' dorms. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't enjoy being hard on his students, though the idea of singing songs in the common room the way Pomona did with her Hufflepuffs, or practicing positive, mindful meditation the way Filius did with his Ravenclaws made him feel sick. Besides that, the little shits deserved it, thinking they could pull one over on him in such a spectacular fashion. They honestly thought he'd miss his entire first year, minus two, creeping out for an illicit nighttime jaunt? He shook his head, stifling an involuntary smile. The brats deserved everything they had coming to them.

He rounded the corner, and right on cue, Daphne Greengrass's head poked out into the corridor. It shot back in, then out again, and then, at last, the girl wandered nervously out toward him.

"Sir," she started in her shakiest, most timid voice. "I had a nightmare."

Severus drew himself up and prepared to match the child's performance with one of his own.

"A nightmare?" Severus paused, then gazed down at the child. "My goodness. Is that so, Miss Greengrass?"

She nodded, her head bobbing up and down theatrically. "A terrible nightmare. I can't go back to sleep."

"That sounds simply terrible," Severus said, his false concern conveyed through a voice that was better at subtlety than the nearly pantomiming child in front of him. He knelt down on one knee. "I suppose you can't go back to sleep now, can you?"

"No, sir," Daphne said, shaking her head quickly. "I was thinking- well, I thought maybe I could-"

"Nightmares are very natural," Severus said in a soothing, gentle voice that came very unnaturally to him. It was the kind of voice that would have Pomona and Filius beaming with pride, followed by Minerva throwing her arms around him with joy at him finally showing his soft side, before asking what the ruddy hell was wrong, and whether or not he was dying.

"Are they, sir?" Daphne asked, her lower lip sticking out slightly in some sort of attempt to be adorable Severus imagined worked wonders at home.

"Oh yes. Perfectly natural," Severus said in his smoothest voice. "I imagine I'd have a nightmare too if half the girls in my dorm suddenly vanished."

Daphne froze, and through the open door Severus could hear a terrified squeak in the direction of Tracey Davis' bed. Severus stared at Daphne for a long moment, letting her squirm as he very slowly raised an eyebrow, then straightened up and strode into the room, lighting the candles held by wall brackets with a wave of his wand. He picked up the tattered rabbit on the floor, tossed it at the foot of the now-cowering Tracey's bed, then moved along to the bed next to hers and flipped up its blanket before doing the same to the bed next to Daphne's. Both were filled with bedding and clothes.

Severus turned to look at the girls, both of whom appeared as though they wanted to vanish into thin air. With the gravest mock concern he could muster, passing well into the realms of sarcasm, he matched both their wide eyes with large, wide eyes of his own and said, "My goodness. No wonder you had a nightmare, Miss Greengrass. You're certainly in one now, aren't you?"

Daphne opened her mouth, face absolutely petrified, but before she could speak Severus tightened his lips and dropped the act. "Silence. The both of you. You will remain in your beds, and you will not move a inch. I will be back for you both."

With that, he whirled on his heel, and with a flick of his wand the door shut behind him. He knew they'd remain there, frightened out of their wits until he came back to escort them to his office along with the rest of the first years. He supposed he could have just waited to come down to the dungeons until he'd recovered the other miscreants and retrieved the two girls then, but then they wouldn't have to stew in the consequences of their bad decisions nearly as long, and where was the fun in that?

All right, Severus conceded. Maybe he didn't enjoy disciplining his students, but he certainly did enjoy making them understand they weren't nearly as clever as they thought they were, especially when trying to pull one over on him. And, fine, maybe it was rather enjoyable to swoop out at the last moment, once they thought they'd succeeded in their inevitably foolish plans.

It was more than had been afforded to him in his time in Slytherin, much more. The Slytherin Severus knew was an angry, bitter place, with many of its joys and excitements coming from hurting others, and from the Dark Lord's victories. Obviously, not everyone lived that sort of life, but many did. Too many. Severus was never about to allow his current brood of students to run wild without consequence, but if they were bonding in a way the Slytherins of Severus's time never did, in a way that didn't focus itself around cruelty and self-aggrandizement...

And the fact that they were bonding with Potter- that was important. Severus sighed to himself at the thought of the now-many letters he was dutifully answering. So many blasted letters from the parents. He wondered who would be the first to show up. There was always one who showed up in person before the Christmas holidays, questioning his methods and his loyalty. His written correspondence was usually enough to assure a suspicious parent that he was just playing a part, and their children didn't understand he was teaching them to successfully hide their true loyalty to the Dark Lord under a veneer acceptable to a world in which people like Dumbledore ran the show.

After all, what child didn't complain to their parents that their teachers were cartoonishly evil? The parents knew Severus was strict, and even if they didn't like him being stern with their spoiled little beasts, that didn't mean he was teaching them to walk away from the circles the Dark Lord once inhabited. Severus knew he had to feed it to the younger ones in drips and drabs, not all at once.

Slowly. He had to do it slowly, and give them the tools they needed to make the choice for themselves, while providing an environment that didn't immediately segregate them into 'Pure-bloods' and 'everyone else'. And when the younger students occasionally did complain to their parents that they weren't allowed to call other students Mudbloods or conduct themselves the way their parents had at school, well, he had the perfect excuse that he needed to convince Dumbledore to trust him completely, especially considering one day the Dark Lord would return and need him where he was.

The parents all knew that the house of Slytherin had been on thin ice after the end of the war, when some of the students became even more brutal and filled with rage in the wake of their parents defeat. If there was a return to those days, Dumbledore had threatened to remove the house of Slytherin entirely. Complete bollocks, of course, but it helped frighten some of the parents into accepting Severus's methods, as well as a reluctant belief that he was simply teaching them to be more subtle. They'd had the opportunity to be open in their alliances when the war was ongoing; their children didn't have that luxury now that it was over and the victors were known.

It helped that as ominously as his students thought of him, Severus was nothing compared to what had come before. Slughorn had been useless, but Apollyon Pringle was a sadistic horror of a human being who never should have been allowed near children, or anyone else for that matter. Severus was firm, and expected a great deal from his students, but he was determined never to be cruel. His little swine had no idea how lucky they were that the worst thing they regularly faced was a harsh scolding, or early bedtimes, or a handful of well-placed swats. Their parents, on the other hand, more than likely found themselves on the wrong side of Pringle's cane at least once in their Hogwarts career, wielded by someone who did not hold back or know any sense of moderation.

All the same, someone would show up soon. If Severus had to bet, he would bet on Lucius, without a doubt, but perhaps it would be a perfect year and no one would show up. And perhaps his Slytherin monsters would behave perfectly for the rest of the year, not putting a toe out of line. Perhaps Pomona would stop reading the absolutely atrocious poetry the Hufflepuffs wrote in the break room. It was nice to imagine sometimes.

By the time Severus reached the third floor, as quietly as possible, the rest of the students were slipping through the secret passageway to the sealed-off classrooms. Severus remained hidden around the corner of the next corridor. He was impressed the first years had discovered it; he'd known about a great many of the secret spots around the school, mainly because James bloody Potter and his pack of fools were louder than they thought they were, but they'd never mentioned this spot. Severus had only learned of it himself one evening over Butterbeers with Argus in the caretaker's office as the man warned him of all the different passageways and secrets his students might use against him.

Severus reached into the depths of his robe for a well-worn copy of David Copperfield, then leaned against the wall, found his place, lit his wand, and began to read the story he'd pored over so many times before.

They ran out of spells five minutes in, but it was still a rousing success. After as many tickling charms and attempts at a disarming spell (all of which failed) as they could muster, they practiced what few spells they did know before lying on the floor of the abandoned classroom and talking about the duels they'd have once they were older. In all honesty, Harry didn't particularly want to find himself having very many duels when he was older, but if they were like the ones he'd had tonight perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. It was a perfect night, the kind Harry had imagined living at the Dursleys but long since gave up on thinking actually existed.

He was never entirely sure if he fell asleep or not. All he knew was they fell into a comfortable, sleepy silence as that stretched on indefinitely, and he'd been staring at the ceiling, stone floor beneath him, wonderfully content with the world and the people in it, before falling into a haze that was only broken by a faint thudding sound in the distance.

They all sat up, gazing at one another nervously. They waited for another sound, but it didn't come.

"It's nearly a quarter to three," Pansy finally said, glancing at Vincent's watch. "We should probably go back."

Millicent nodded. "Mrs. Norris is going to reach Mr. Filch eventually, and I'd rather be back in the dungeons by the time that happens."

"Do we have to?" Greg asked wistfully, but he was already joining the group as they got to their feet and reached for their wands.

"This was brilliant," Harry said as they crept toward the door. "Vincent, this was a great idea. Thanks for convincing us."

"I told you we could figure out a way to duel," Vincent said with a pleased grin, as Greg chimed in with, "It was my idea too."

"Well done to you too, then," Harry said as they crept into the hall.

Theo tiptoed ahead and pushed aside the secret wall. They all crept through, and Harry wondered for the briefest of moments if Filch or Snape or one of the professors would be standing there waiting for them, but the thought left his mind quickly as he immediately realized there was nothing to worry about. The corridor was completely empty.

It was nearly a quarter to three, and David had just run off to live with his great-aunt, when Severus heard the footsteps. He paused, holding his lit wand aloft and taking a step forward. The footsteps grew closer. Severus shut his book as quietly as possible and slipped it back into the pocket of his robes. He stood silently, waiting, and after a moment the figure rounded the corner and stopped in its tracks.

It was a dark, cloaked figure, one that appeared to be a man. The light provided by Severus's wand and the moonlight streaming in from the windows above did nothing to illuminate what was hidden under the cloak's hood. All Severus could see was the tip of a wand poking out from underneath the figure's sleeve.

For a split second the two stared at one another. Then, with a swish of its robes, the figure was gone just as quickly as it had arrived.

Gripping his own wand, Severus instantly pursued, rounding the corner, wand at the ready.

"Shh," Pansy whispered, her cheeks bright red with excitement. "Greg, will you stop walking so loudly?"

"I'm not walking loudly," Greg argued, his voice far louder than the echoing thwaps of his slippers against the hard flagstone floor.

"Keep your voice down!" Harry chimed in, as Millicent helpfully snarled in Greg's ear, "If you don't shut it, I'm tossing you out a window."

"You're nicer to the cat than you are to me," Greg protested, but he kept his voice down.

"I know I am. I like the cat more than I like you," Millicent shot back, then added, "Don't take it personally. I like cats more than I like most people."

"I can't see why," Draco said haughtily. "They're so aloof, and cold. They aren't friendly like dogs."

"They just know what they want," Millicent said with a shrug. "And they aren't afraid to let you know. They're not mean. Mrs. Norris curls up on my lap all the time. But if you're mean to her, she'll rat you out to Filch in a heartbeat. It's a fair trade."

They'd reached the narrow staircase next to the broom cupboard where Ernie MacMillan had been sick the week before. They paused for a moment as Draco thought over Millicent's statement, then shrugged. "I still like dogs more."

"Maybe you see too much of yourself in cats," Pansy teased. "You're a cat if I ever did see one."

"What? I am not," Draco protested, as Millicent said, "He's not a cat. Cats don't throw tantrums when they don't get what they want. They sulk in dignified silence."

"I don't throw tantrums." Draco glared as his classmates stifled their laughter. "I don't!"

"Draco, you're our friend," Blaise said as diplomatically as possible. "But... well, you've threatened to tell on everyone in this castle to your father at least once."

Draco glared at Blaise, his cheeks flushing red. "Take that back!"

"It's the truth!"

"Take it back!"

Draco took a step toward Blaise, and in that moment something very strange happened. They all saw it. Draco shoved Blaise, and brushed very close to Harry as he did so, close enough to bump into him, but not close enough to send him tumbling over with intense force. Harry was knocked to the side as though someone had thrown him, directly over the top step and down the long, narrow staircase. Or he would have, had Draco's hand not immediately shot out and gripped the railing, the other hand grabbing Harry's arm and yanking him back.

"What?" Harry stumbled backwards, as did Draco, the two falling into a tangled heap. "What just-?"

Pansy screamed. At the foot of the stairs, hidden in the darkness, was a hooded figure, wand aloft. The next thing Harry knew he was on his feet and he was running- they all were.

"What was that?" Greg asked frantically. "Who was that?"

"Shut up and run!" Draco all but shrieked, and they did, faster than they ever had before.

Harry would remember that moment at the top of the stairs for the rest of his life- the sickening drop in his stomach as he realized he was falling, the horrified but almost peaceful calm that came over him in that moment, and the sharp contrast of Draco wrenching him back. At some point he realized they'd split up in the chaos of escaping the scene; he was with Draco and Millicent, but the others had all bolted in various other directions. They ran through the hallways, not sure where they were going but desperate to get wherever that somewhere was, only stopping when they couldn't run anymore.

"That person tried to kill you," Millicent said, gasping for breath, staring at Harry with huge, frightened eyes. "Tried to kill you, or hurt you badly, and make it look like an accident."

They all stared at each other, and Harry glanced over his shoulder, half expecting the cloaked figure to be directly behind them.

"Don't be daft," Millicent shot at him almost immediately. "We've seen them now, haven't we? They can't make it look like an accident anymore. Harry, who would want to kill you?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. The only answer he had to that question was a dead person, or at least one who wasn't around any longer. The very idea made him feel sick.

"It couldn't be," Draco said after a moment. "It couldn't."

"No," Millicent agreed, but her face told a different story. "He's- no. It couldn't be. Harry, it couldn't be, could it?"

"Come on," Harry said after a moment, once he'd found his voice. "We need to find the others."

"No. You need to go back to the common room," Millicent ordered, as though she had this authority. "We'll find them. It's not safe for you out here."

"Well, we're not sending him alone, are we?" Draco argued. "What's to stop that cloaked person from finishing the job?"

"We've seen them now!" Millicent shot back, her face bright red with fear and frustration. "If they wanted to make it look like an accident, they can't do it now- we've seen them!"

"Unless they kill all of us," Harry said, his voice surprising him as it came out sounding very much unlike his own. "A bunch of Slytherins accidentally killing each other dueling."

"No one would believe that." Draco's face was deathly pale.

"There's no time for this!" Millicent grabbed Draco's shoulder roughly and shoved him toward Harry. "You. Take him back to the dungeons. I'll find the others."

A snort of involuntary laughter escaped Harry's nose, and he said, "Not alone, you're not," just as Draco protested "We're not letting you go by yourself!"

"You aren't going anywhere, Mr. Malfoy," came a voice that Harry was equally relieved and horrified to hear.

The three children turned their heads slowly to see Professor Snape, more livid than they'd ever seen him, gripping the arms of both Vincent and Greg in one hand, and Pansy and Theo in the other.

"Sir," Harry started, a thousand excuses swirling through his mind, each more improbable than the last, but the look on Snape's face instantly silenced him.

The sound of quick, clopping footsteps caused them all to turn their head in the direction of its source. Harry's stomach tightened with fear, but a strange sense of relief washed over him as well. It's all right. Professor Snape's here to protect us.

The figure rounded the corner, and Harry expected to see the cloaked figure once more, but it was simply Blaise, gasping for breath, then gasping in surprise.

"Oh," he exhaled softly, taking in the sight of the housemaster, who was breathing nearly as heavily as he was.

"Oh," Severus repeated back in his lowest, most sarcastic tone. "My office. All of you. Now."

Severus sank into his chair, massaging his temples roughly before summoning one of his most expensive liquors, one he saved for situations that truly called for it. He poured a single, albeit large, helping before returning the bottle to its shelf. He gulped the contents of his glass in one go, then slammed it down next to the ruler still sitting on his desk. He grabbed the blasted thing, tossed it into his desk drawer, and shut it more roughly than he needed to, breathing heavily.

He was a fool. An absolute fool to think Potter would be safe wandering the castle at night, even with himself lurking around the corner for protection. Of course the second the boy left the safety of the dungeons there'd be someone there to creep after him. Of course there were people who still wanted him dead- a great many people. Of course someone had figured a way inside the castle, or had been there already. Of course he and Albus had been so bloody self-assured the security they had in place would be enough. Of course they'd been wrong.

Someone in the castle was working with the Dark Lord, or at the very least they were still being guided by his ideals long after the war had ended. It wasn't that shocking; the war had only ended ten years prior. Perhaps he'd wanted to believe, against all his better judgment, that things were different now. Which he'd never actually believed, not truly, but he had thought the boy would be safe under his eye.

He felt like a fool. The cloaked figure had managed to evade him, and give the children a chance to creep out from their hiding place undetected, none the wiser. And then- well, the possibility of what could have occurred on the stairs made Severus as furious as it did frighten him.

What infuriated even more was that the boy had tried to hide it ever happened.

It was obvious the first years were upset, terrified even, and not just because his wrath was upon them. Once the inevitable justice of their escapade had been evenly doled out and Severus made clear to them just how foolish and reckless they'd been, he interrogated the children on whether or not they'd bumped into anyone they shouldn't have. Potter remained tight-lipped, but the others cracked almost instantly. Even when they revealed what had occurred on the stairs, the Potter boy just shook his head and said it was probably nothing, that he'd just lost his balance, that it had nothing to do with whoever the cloaked man was.

Severus probed the boy's mind as subtly as possible, and what he saw was far different and far more terrifying than what the boy was willing to admit. The bloody fool.

Severus sat at his desk now, forcing his nerves and his temper into place. He rose to his feet and left his office, wand at the ready, on his way to a place he'd never gone before, but knew about in case of emergencies. He strode quickly, not pausing for a moment, passing the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office on the seventh floor and only coming to a halt at a small portrait Albus had once told him was of the confectioner Bertie Botts in his younger years. Severus rapped the frame of the portrait with a clenched fist, ignoring the startled and annoyed cries of the awakened inhabitant.

"For Merlin's sake," Botts huffed. "It must be half past three. The nerve of it. The gall."

"Wake him," Severus said, waving a hand impatiently. "It's important."

The boys' dorm was silent, minus the occasional shifting about from the still-wincing Slytherin first years as they struggled in vain to find a comfortable position. It had been horrible, from the moment Snape marched them back down to the dungeons, to the furious tirade he'd unleashed upon them upon being reunited with Daphne and Tracey, to one-by-one bending over Snape's armchair to face the terrible music, to then having to listen to a second furious tirade while trying to hide their watery eyes and sniffling noses from one another.

Harry shifted to his side, cringing as he did so. The worst part of all came after all that, when Snape had towered over him and done... whatever that was. He'd done it to Harry once before, that probing feeling in his head as though he could read minds. Not that it mattered if he could, because everyone around him had already blabbed about the staircase faster than Dudley went through new computer games. That was the worst part of all, much worse than the terrible sting that still wouldn't abate no matter how much he shifted about.

"Whose big idea was this whole dueling thing, anyway?" Vincent finally broke the silence, his voice slightly muffled from his face being half-buried in his pillow.

Equally muffled laughter came, albeit reluctantly, from the boys around them, but Harry stayed silent, determined to hold onto his anger.

"You're such an idiot, Vince." Greg's bedsprings creaked as he rolled onto his other side. "If I'm ever able to walk again, I'm going to kick your arse."

"Already had that, thanks," Vincent retorted. "Besides, it was just as much your idea as it was mine."

"Let's agree to never follow a plan thought up by Vince and Greg again, agreed?" Theo called out from his bed.

"You contributed to it," Greg protested. "You all did."

"And now we're all paying for it," Theo said, but he said it with the resigned semi-amusement that comes after the terrible thing one has been dreading has since passed. "God almighty, that was awful."

"Was it this bad after the Remembrall incident?" Greg asked, and although Harry didn't want to grace any of the loose-lipped bastards with an answer, he found himself saying in unison with Draco, "No."

"The Remembrall was bad, but we didn't get ten that time. He was angry," Draco said from his bed, doing his best to hide the wobbliness of his voice behind a fake bravado. "But he was really angry this time."

"Who was that man?" Theo asked quietly, and the room fell silent as all eyes fell on Harry.

"You shouldn't have told," he mumbled, staring at the wall. "I don't know who it was. But you shouldn't have told."

"Why?" Draco asked. "Are you insane? Why wouldn't you tell Professor Snape? If someone's trying to kill you, he needs to know!"

Harry didn't answer. In all honesty, he didn't know why he felt so strongly about the subject, but he did. After all, he'd gone through ten years with the Dursleys with only his own wits to rely on, and he'd learned the hard way adults usually let you down. Besides that...

"It was my business to tell him," Harry went on, but he wasn't quite as sure as he had been just a moment before. "Not any of yours."

"You weren't going to!" Theo protested. "We had to. You were being stupid!"

Harry didn't reply. Deep down he knew they were right, but he was still gripped by a wave of emotion he didn't quite know what to do with.

"There's something else," Blaise said quietly, and they all jumped, realizing only now that he hadn't said a word since being discovered by Snape in the corridor. "Something you all should know."

Harry sat up carefully, wincing slightly. "What is it?"

"When we all split up running, I saw something," Blaise said, his voice barely audible as he stared at Harrys bedside table. "I didn't realize where I was running, and I ran down a hallway with a locked door. I unlocked it."

"You know the unlocking charm?" Draco asked, unable to hide the fact that he was impressed.

"That's not important." Blaise waved a hand impatiently, then deflated like a balloon with a small but persistent leak. "It was the forbidden corridor. I saw what's inside it. I saw why it's forbidden."

"What was there?" Harry asked, leaning forward, and Blaise swallowed before diving in.