AN: Work's a bit mad, updates may be a bit slower.


"Hey Figurehead!" Ginny called, waving at Harry from a few seats down the table. "Pass the scones and share with us peasants."

Harry shook his head at the name and he seriously considered throwing a scone at her. Ginny had a grin on her face and Harry knew she was not only aware of what he was thinking, but probably hoping he would. Instead, he spent a minute picking the best one off the plate for himself before sending it down the table.

He appreciated that she'd picked up on his reaction of treating the article like a joke, but he really was not looking forward to yet another nickname.

…..

"Today," Lupin said, standing at the front of the room with his wand nowhere in sight, "we are going to talk about a Dark Art that does not require any form of magic."

Harry's brows furrowed as he glanced at Ron and Hermione. It sounded like Umbridge had further restricted Lupin from teaching, but there was no annoyance in his voice as he made his announcement.

"I know what you're thinking," Professor Lupin said, with a mischievous smile. "How can something without magic at all be a dark art? But alas, it is something that has plagued the wizarding world for decades. The muggle one as well."

He turned and waved his hand at the blackboard, where giant letters appeared.

PROPAGANDA.

Harry sat up a big straighter. The proclamation made shortly after The Daily Prophet article had arrived mentioned only students in the banning of its discussion, but Harry was pretty certain that the Ministry didn't want the professors talking about it either.

"Propaganda is a tool that is used to influence or persuade a group of people to believe something or further an agenda. It is the art of influencing opinion. There are four main types of propaganda, and they all use selective facts, loaded language, and emotional appeals to ensnare attention and appeal to their audience."

He shifted through some papers that he had at the lecture stand and looked up to the class.

"Everyone falls for propaganda at some point."

He picked up a copy of what was clearly The Daily Prophet, flipped through two pages, and then put it back down.

"It can be used to sway people toward a certain religion or strengthen their loyalty to it, used for wartime to encourage populations to fight and work toward the greater good of their society, for advertising, or for political purposes. For this lesson I'm going to focus on wartime and political propaganda, as it seems to affect our world the most."

Ron nudged Harry and leaned over, as Lupin put some photos and newspaper clippings up on the board.

"You think he's going to give away…you know?"

Harry shook his head.

"He doesn't know," Harry whispered back. "Not all of it."

"During the last war," Lupin continued, ignoring Harry and Ron, "There were plenty of posters and newspaper articles about You Know Who, about the destruction he caused, the injuries, and his plans for domination of the wizarding world. These articles played on panic and fear of the unknown, fear of injury and harm. And they were paired with news about the Ministry and how much the Ministry was trying to step in to protect the people."

He switched the posters with more articles, proclaiming Ministry efforts to defeat Voldemort, to endless hours worked in the search for how to end the reign of terror.

"Was this true? We all know who actually defeated Voldemort," Lupin smiled, not calling out anyone who flinched at him using the real name. "He is in this room. But the Minister at the time, Millicent Bagnold, was able to retain her position for ten years due to how favourably the wizarding population saw her after the war ended."

The Ravenclaws sitting across from Harry weren't taking notes, but they, like most everyone in the room, were staring at the front and listening intently.

"Immediate trials to imprison Death Eaters, investigations into sympathisers of Voldemort, new laws against creatures found to have supported him. Bagnold took a hard stance and was rewarded by the loyalty of her fellow wizard kind. She used the fear that people had been experiencing for years to highlight actions, and remained in power."

He paced back and forth in front of the room, seemingly pleased at how well he held their attention.

"But did she actually do anything to deserve it? As mentioned, we all know who actually led to Voldemort's downfall."

Harry could feel people looking toward him and kept his attention focused on Lupin.

"Here's an activity that we can do as a practicum. As The Daily Prophet is one of the only sources of news that we have, we'll take a look at an article or two within and try to read into motivations behind it. Our questions to discuss will be:

Why is the ministry bringing this topic up now after all these years?

What are they trying to draw attention away from?

Do they have a person or group of people they are trying to focus attention on?

What can they gain from this article?"

Lupin reached into his bag and pulled out a bundle of Daily Prophets. Harry kept glancing between the front of the room and the back, where the door was. Class was almost over, but he wasn't sure that it would be taken well if Umbridge came in and found them all discussing the article, and he wasn't even sure if he wanted to hear his classmates try to figure out what it meant.

"Ah," Lupin suddenly said. "I seem to have brought the wrong bundle of newspapers. We'll have to skip those questions for now, but perhaps try to remember them should you find yourself with reading material later."

Some of the class let loose a short amount of laughter as they looked between themselves, as it was clear to everyone that Lupin had deliberately not handed out the editions that the proclamation had banned discussion around.

"My last question about propaganda that I want you to think about," Lupin said, as they stood up to collect their things for the next class. "When you think of a werewolf, what's the first image to come to your mind? A snarling uncontrollable beast that appears once a month? Or a human, like myself, who you interact with for the rest of the days of the month?"

…..

By the end of the day Harry wanted to hide in his dorm for a solid hour or two. No one had directly asked him about the article, as Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad were working hard to ensure they were all around the school to monitor for discussions of the Prophet. But he could hear the whispers, and knew that his classmates wondered about it. In his first year the whole school had very quickly found out about his adventures with Quirrell, and most of what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets had become public knowledge shortly after as well. Hogwarts was a strange and sort of unsafe place, with the Forbidden Forest and the moving stairs and monsters within, but those two incidents were different. And this article was pointing to different again.

"All right, Harry," Seamus said, following him into the room. "Spill."

"Spill what?" Harry asked, flopping face down on his bed and dropping his bookbag on the floor.

"The article," Seamus continued. "I don't believe for a second your little act of pretending it was rubbish."

"It was a Rita Skeeter article," said Harry, into his pillow. "Of course it was rubbish."

"Potter," Seamus warned. Harry heard the door open and a few people enter, but didn't look up.

"Are we interrogating Harry?" Dean asked. "Who'd you piss off at the Ministry this time?"

"Why's it my fault?" Harry asked, finally rolling over and sitting up. Neville had come in as well, and Ron was standing in the doorway, yelling at a first year outside of view. He nodded toward Ron. "Sound carries."

Seamus looked confused for half a second before speaking again.

"Weasley! Get in here and close the fecking door."

Harry kicked his shoes off and sat cross legged on his bed, holding his wand up as Ron sat down on his own.

"Muffliato," Harry cast.

"Is that a privacy spell?" Neville asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Snape taught me. Makes everyone near us just hear a buzzing noise."

"I can't believe you kept that from us," Seamus muttered. "All right, so we all got Lupin's lesson today, that we should doubt everything we see. And this article says that You Know Who just died, so… that's not true? That's why you've been training us?"

"No," Harry said. "He's dead. But the Death Eaters are not, that's why I've been training us all."

"And that rubbish about the Ministry killing him off?" Seamus asked.

"I'm sure the Ministry has a lot of plans that they don't share with the public, but that wasn't one of them," Harry said.

"How do you know?" Neville asked, hanging up his school uniform jumper.

"When did he die?" Dean asked. Harry gave a grim smile at the question.

"This spring."

Seamus, who'd been pulling his books out of his bag to shove into his bookshelf, dropped one on the floor.

"The fuck?"

Harry played with the hem of his jumper and took a deep breath.

"This can't be shared yet, but I'm pretty sure it's going to come out soon so I need you to know," Harry started. "The article was right about one thing, namely that the Death Eaters knew that Voldemort wasn't dead. But Dumbledore knew it too, and he's spent this whole time since my parents were killed trying to figure out how to finally defeat him. He knew Voldemort would never stop trying to come back, trying to kill me."

"No offense mate," said Ron, grinning. "I know why he's targeting you and all but it really makes it sound like you're a narcissist when you put it that way."

Harry leaned forward on the bed and in one swift move pulled his pillow out and rocketed it right at Ron.

"Agh!"

"It's because of the prophecy, you twat," Harry said, grinning as the pillow hit Ron straight on.

"The one Umbridge wanted to know about?" Dean asked.

"Different one," Harry explained, ducking as Ron threw the pillow back.

"It was a prophecy made before I was born. It foretold that there would be a baby born with the power to defeat him," Harry said, aware that everyone was watching him carefully. In a way, it was beneficial that Umbridge had gone over prophecies, as his dormmates didn't question him. "And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."

There was absolute silence in the room and Harry was fairly certain he saw some gum fall out of Seamus's open mouth.

"So no, the Ministry didn't kill him," Harry quietly said.

"Fuck, Potter," Seamus said, recovering from his shock. "You've known about that all your life?"

"No," Harry said. "Just since Snape started training me and uh… caring for me. He knew."

The room was silent for a minute, which Harry wasn't surprised by. It was a lot of information to take in, and when he'd first heard Voldemort was out to get him specifically, he hadn't taken it well either.

"What happens next?" Dean finally asked.

"The Ministry knows what happened in the spring, and they know what Voldemort used to make himself so hard to kill. To keep himself alive. And they didn't want anyone else to know, but clearly someone does and is using The Daily Prophet to expose them."

"For what though?" Ron asked. "Couldn't figure that part out."

Harry shrugged.

"Think about how it looks. It's been quiet and calm in the wizarding world for fourteen years. And suddenly Death Eaters are starting to riot, and it turns out that the biggest evil wizard of the last twenty years wasn't as dead as everyone thought. And the Ministry knew that."

…..

PROCLAMATION.

TEACHERS ARE HEREBY BANNED

FROM GIVING STUDENTS ANY

INFORMATION

NOT STRICTLY RELATED

TO SUBJECTS THEY ARE PAID

TO TEACH

….

The castle, once blanketed in November snow, had a quiet feel to it in the evenings. Footsteps less loudly pronounced, candles burning brighter and warmer, and students bundled up as they hurried back to their common rooms. The clock in the main hall ticked as loudly as ever, but given that it was approaching curfew and warmer in the dorms, there weren't many out wandering the halls.

Dumbledore gave a last look to the empty hall outside his office, and then closed the large door and cast a spell at it. He turned back to the group inside with a serious look.

"Albus," McGonagall said, a concerned look on her face.

"There are some unfriendly persons in the school, I'm afraid" Dumbledore said. The fireplace flared green as he sat down, admitting Molly and Arthur Weasley. Sirius followed shortly after.

"We should really shut down the Prophet," said Sirius, dusting his shoulder off.

"And leave room for a worse replacement?" Snape asked. Sirius sat down next to Lupin and traded scowls with Snape.

"At least prevent them from publishing accusations," Sirius shrugged.

"That's censorship, dear," Molly said.

"Indeed, it is," Dumbledore said. "I will make this Order meeting quick, as we have lots of work to do in the coming days. Sirius, were you successful?"

"Yes," Sirius said, putting his hand in his jacket pocket and withdrawing a small object.

"What Sirius is holding is the very reason that Tom Riddle was able to keep himself alive after his spell backfired in 1981," Dumbledore told the room. He had a gleam of curiosity in his eyes as Sirius placed an ugly, charred ring on the desk. "A horcrux."

Molly, Sirius, and Snape showed little reaction, as they were already aware and working to destroy them. McGonagall, Lupin, and Arthur Weasley turned several shades paler though.

"Those are created by murder," Lupin said.

"I don't believe that has ever troubled him," Dumbledore gently said. "We have destroyed several already, and I think that there is one left. Here, at Hogwarts."

"Related to a founder, specifically Rowena Ravenclaw," Molly said. She reached down for a second, as if to grab papers from her bag on the floor, but paused half way and withdrew her hand.

"And we need to destroy these to ensure he can never come back?" Arthur asked.

"He cannot," Snape answered. "The method used to kill him this second time altered him enough that his horcruxes no longer recognised him. Giving time for one of us to destroy the remaining ones. However, to a general reader of the newspaper, it will appear that there is a way to bring him back, and that we, and the Ministry, do not currently know where all of those pieces are."

"It's at Hogwarts somewhere," Sirius said, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees, propping up his chin with his hands. "I've asked the ghosts and the portraits but they're about as useful as a chocolate teapot."

"And," Snape said, glaring at Sirius, "with the constant reports of Death Eaters causing unrest and trouble at Azkaban, it would not take much to assume that the Death Eaters are aware of this and want to use one of these pieces to bring the Dark Lord back."

"Which is not possible," McGonagall repeated.

"Correct," Snape said. "Given that Harry's name was mentioned directly in the paper, we have begun preparing for the truth to come out and what exactly to share with his involvement."

"It's you that has more to lose, isn't it?" Molly asked.

"I don't believe I will be jailed for killing the Dark Lord," Snape dryly said. "But it is not the Ministry that concerns me most."

"Oh really?" Sirius said, with amusement. "Not afraid of the people that can jail you without trial?"

"No," Snape said, leaning forward and pointing his finger at Sirius. "I am concerned about the remaining Death Eaters finding the last horcrux before you do. It has been weeks, Black."

"I don't see you getting out there and looking for it!" Sirius hotly replied. "That Umbridge woman follows me around every time I come to Hogwarts."

"This is not my task," Snape snapped. "I have been occupied refining our course of action once this breaks."

"Share with the class then, Snivelly," Sirius said, sitting back and sweeping his arm forward, as if inviting Snape in.

"Sirius," Lupin warned.

"Severus is correct," Dumbledore firmly said. "Once this is revealed to the public, I would like for there to be no question about any remaining horcruxes. They should be all destroyed, for the Death Eaters will find value in searching for one to use, and the Ministry may find reason to accuse us of doing the same."

"Do we know when this unveiling might take place, Albus?" Arthur asked.

"No," Dumbledore answered. "It is difficult to predict."

"No, it isn't," Snape scoffed. "The Dark Lord waited until the end of the school year each time. It is now six weeks to Christmas, and the newspaper articles are clearly escalating. I assume that this will be revealed to the public the week before students return home for the holidays to ensure the most panic from parents."

"Why not the first week back, then?" Sirius asked. "When they won't be home again for months?"

"I'm certain that after three weeks at home the parents will be happy to be rid of them and will be less concerned by unconfirmed threats," Snape snidely answered.

"One would hope they enjoy their holidays with their children," Dumbledore said, with a smile. He gave a confident look around the room and then stood.

"Meeting dismissed, and do be careful about not being seen throughout the castle."

There was a quiet shuffling of chairs and the fireplace whooshing as people rose and the Weasleys returned home.

"Sirius, there is a room here that many students use to hide illicit and broken objects. It's vast and filled with anything one could imagine, though mostly items that students desire not to be caught with," McGonagall said, as she stood and placed her teacup on the serving tray.

"And where is this place?" Sirius asked, sitting up. "We did extensive research into the layout of the castle and..."

"The Room of Requirement," McGonagall said. "I must say, I am very surprised that you, Remus, James, and Peter never found it."

"Surprised?" Lupin asked, with a smile. "Or relieved?"

…..

"Just like I demonstrated," Harry said, standing in the middle of the Room of Requirement with his wand out. He was facing a tall dummy, and cast his hand down slowly, with a very quick twist flick at the end. At the end of the room the dummy toppled over, as if taken out at the knees with a cricket bat.

"You can defend against this with a standard protego," said Harry. "But you must swipe your wand down, to block."

He gave another demonstration of the wand movement and then split the room into pairs. Each pair got to practise blocking the other's spell before moving to the dummy and taking it out by the knees. The room was soon filled with loud spell casting and even louder proclamations of protego, with some unintelligible noises as people concentrated hard enough to cast. Harry walked between the pairs, offering some advice and giving praise. He felt pretty confident that this lesson had gone well as everyone seemed to get the hang of it fairly quickly, until he heard a loud yell and a few screams.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was laying on the floor by the doorway, surrounded by Ron, Seamus, and a few others.

"His knees," Ron said, looking a bit green. "They shouldn't bend that way."

"The spell went the wrong way?" Harry asked. A few of the other DA members standing by, also looking a little queasy, nodded.

"Harry, he needs to go to the infirmary," Hermione said, her face taught with concern as Justin howled with pain.

"I know," Harry said, grimacing. "But I don't think…"

"Umbridge is there," Seamus said. "Heard her talking to Pomfrey about an audit tonight."

Justin groaned and shut his eyes, his legs unnaturally straight as his knees locked against the floor.

"Is there some way we can get her out of there?" Ron asked. "You reckon she's there because she knows we're meeting somehow and hope someone gets injured?"

Harry nodded.

"Probably. And it's not curfew yet so I don't think any of us walking by will pull her out. Plus, there's Malfoy's squad walking around."

Justin started groaning louder, clearly still in pain and trying to reach for his legs. Harry thought there was nothing else for it, and pressed his mole tattoo. His heart rate was fairly close to normal, so he hoped that would give some sort of assurance that it wasn't him who was injured.

"Maybe we can tie a splint around his legs," Hermione said. "And we'll see if we can transfigure a stretch-"

The fireplace whooshed and Snape stepped out silently, robes impeccably clean as he left the fire and glared at the few students who'd raised their wands at the perceived threat.

"The spell backfired," Harry said, ignoring the silence in the room. "His knees folded the wrong way."

Snape strode to where the group was gathered, kneeling on the floor next to Justin. He waved his wand over Justin's legs, frowning at how they looked.

"The Knockout-Knees Hex?" Snape asked.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed. Snape started murmuring and waving his wand, which only started to relax Justin after a solid minute of spellwork. Closer to the two-minute mark Justin finally started to move his feet without wincing.

Snape finished his healing spell and did another scan, making Justin bend his legs up and down before Snape was satisfied.

"Who did this?" Snape asked, looking round the room. After a moment, a short third year Ravenclaw named Daniel Oxley stepped forward and raised his hand. Snape narrowed his eyes, before speaking.

"Who can tell me why this spell went wrong, given that Mr Oxley cast it?"

No one dared say a word, but several glanced between Daniel and Justin, avoiding eye contact with Snape.

"Miss Granger," Snape barked.

"I... a mistake in wand movement," Hermione suggested, but her voice wasn't as firm as it usually was when she was answering questions.

Snape gave the smallest of nods.

"As evidenced by his raised hand, Mr Oxley is lefthanded and thus has his wand movement incorrect," said Snape. He stood and switched his wand to his left hand, mimicking the wand movement of the spell they'd been doing. "Left-handedness makes learning spells more difficult, however, comes with an advantage in a duel as your opponent cannot easily interpret your movements. Take caution when practising; it will be to your favour."

Daniel looked relieved at that; the sort of look that comes after years of being talked down to because he was a lefty.

"Professor," Seamus said, as Snape turned to go back to the fireplace. "You taught Harry how to duel, why can't you teach us?"

Snape turned his head up slightly as he considered Seamus' question.

"How to defend himself," Snape corrected. "I do not teach dueling and the most recent proclamation explicitly makes clear that I am not permitted to share any information about it."

"But can you just show us then?" Seamus continued. "You know, how you would defend yourself from the knockout-knees hex?"

"Seamus," Harry warned. "I already showed you."

"This is not a game, Mr Finnegan," Snape sternly told him. "All of you must note that your lessons are suspected and there are people actively trying to catch you breaking the Ministry's proclamations."

Snape strode dramatically to the fireplace, his sentence hitting heavily with the realisation that Umbridge likely knew they were meeting but didn't have the details, but more importantly, that Snape knew and wasn't inclined to shut them down.

Harry had turned to check on Justin when Snape flicked his wand backward, sending a surprise knockout-knees hex toward Harry.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw the movement of Snape's wand and immediately took a defensive stance, blocking the hex wordlessly and sending one back in return. Snape had spun though, expecting the rebuttal and reflected it up to the ceiling of the room, toward where Harry was standing. Harry swiftly jumped to the side as some rubble fell from the ceiling, firing off three spells that Snape was easily able to block. After the first hex the DA had split from the middle of the room quickly, watching with fascination as the spells flew.

Harry moved slightly to the side again as Snape sent his next hex and stumbled over one of the fallen rocks. He looked like he was about to fall for a second and as he put his hand out as if to catch himself, cast a wordless spell that hit Snape square in the shoulder.

Snape paused with a scowl as Harry righted himself, moving his shoulder in a strange motion as if he were trying to pop his arm back into the socket.

"Sneaky, Potter," Snape said, ignoring the reactions to the concerning crunching noise his should made. He moved his arm around a few times and then put his wand away. "Finch-Fletchley, check in at the infirmary tomorrow."

Harry waited until Snape had spun away in the fireplace before relaxing his muscles and massaging his thigh, where one of Snape's spells had hit.

"I'm going to curse you, Seamus," Harry grumbled, wincing at the pain in his thigh.

"Mate, you just hexed Snape and he let you," Dean said, kicking some of the rubble to the side. "The rest of us would be dead if we tried that."

"By straight up cursing," George said. "No detention required."

…..

STUDENTS OR SOLDIERS?

Last week we questioned if You Know Who had really been alive until this year. This week I ask, what are our children being trained to do? Become proper contributing members of wizarding society, holding up our traditions and beliefs? Or, as a source from Hogwarts tells me, training them to become soldiers against an evil that no longer exists? If the Ministry is correct, why must students need to train in the defense of dark arts? Does Dumbledore know something we do not? Is he the one stirring up the Death Eaters?

"This is utter… utter..." Hermione said, searching for the right word as she smacked the paper down on the table in the Great Hall.

"Bollocks," Ron helpfully supplied, picking up his juice so it wasn't in the way of Hermione.

"Students have always been taught defense against the dark arts. She's making it sound like this is new and people who aren't paying close attention will fall for it."

"Propaganda," Harry said, glancing up at the head table. Lupin was reading the paper with a look of great concern. Umbridge was openly staring at Harry, a pleased smirk on her face.

…..

The letter was short and to the point, delivered by a Hogwarts school owl. It came late in the evening and Fudge ushered it into his office as if to hide that he was in correspondence with anyone from Hogwarts.

Cornelius –

Despite our sometimes tumultuous correspondence, I feel it prudent to warn you that you have a saboteur within the Ministry, close to you. Information contained within the articles in the most recent Daily Prophets contain information that is known only to a select group of people. I caution that someone has strayed from our agreement, or been compromised.

We are prepared for the truth to come out. Be certain that you are.

Yours truly,

Albus.

Fudge read the letter three times, a fine bead of sweat dimpling across his forehead as he did. He knew there was a leak. He didn't need Dumbledore to tell him that. He'd had every person in that cursed meeting investigated and tracked over the last month, to no avail. He resented that Dumbledore had immediately blamed his Ministry as well, as Fudge didn't actually know how many of Dumbledore's trusted confidants knew the truth about Voldemort, and thus it was possible that the leak was on their side. Unlikely, but possible.

Not that Dolores had been able to find anything either. Fudge glanced at his top desk drawer, where her latest report was locked away. Suspicious activity, disrespectful students, teachers not strictly following the curriculum. Nothing concrete, and by the frequency this anonymous person was writing into the newspaper, Fudge needed something concrete quickly.

He considered burning the note before leaving for the night, lest anyone find it and use it against him. But it had Dumbledore's name on it as well, so it was likely to be negative for them both if found, not just Fudge. He quickly unlocked and shoved it in the drawer with the latest report on Hogwarts. The drawer was immediately locked again, and Fudge checked three times before leaving his office that the only key to the drawer was safely secreted away in his jacket's hidden pocket.

Tomorrow he would deal with things for once and for all.

…..

The Headmaster's office was down a hall with three unused offices, one of which had a door very slightly ajar. There was no discernable light coming from the room and the lone occupant within was only just outlined by the green fire burning low in the hearth. The listener at the door, under a demiguise hair cloak, was completely lost to the shadows.

"What has been the reaction since the articles?"

The voice was low and attempting to be quiet, but the flames of a floo call had a tendency to make the voices carry.

"Bluster," Draco quietly answered. "They're pretending it's fake, like they have no idea what it's about, but everyone can tell they're lying."

"Everyone?" Lucius asked.

Draco turned his head slightly to the side before answering.

"The Slytherins know. And some others."

"I see. Your little squad," Lucius said. "And is there loyalty?"

"Of course," Draco immediately answered, looking back up into the fire. "His stupid group thinks that no one knows they get together to practise spells. We all do. We've yet to catch them leaving wherever they practise, but we will."

Draco sounded both determined and hungry, as if he'd love nothing more than to catch Harry and drag him in front of Umbridge.

"Do not get distracted, Draco," Lucius snapped. "You must allow…"

"I know, Father," Draco interrupted. "But I can still scare him."

"Yes, well," Lucius said, standing up straighter. "He shall be scared enough soon."

"Good," Draco hissed. "Smug Gryffindor bastard. As if we don't all see Snape treating him like any other Slytherin. He's an insult. "

"They are both traitors, Draco," Lucius reminded him. "Continue to do your part and you will see what happens."

"Yes, Father," Draco said.

From down the hallway by the main staircase came a loud banging sound, echoing down the hall and into the office, causing Draco to freeze.

"Go," Lucius ordered.

Draco killed the connection and drew his cloak tight before slipping out of the room and toward a set of smaller stairs that led to the dungeons. The figure hiding at the door waited, standing aside against the wall as Draco's footsteps became fainter.

"Your move first, Potter."

Snape calmly removed his demiguise hair cloak and folded it neatly, waiting as he stared at what appeared to be an empty space on the other side of the doorway.

"Though I will say, the longer you pretend not to be standing there, eavesdropping in on Malfoy after curfew, the more annoyed I will be."

Harry loosened his cloak a second later, keeping it draped over his shoulders as he looked at Snape with a mixture determination and embarrassment.

"Downstairs," Snape ordered, pointing toward the dungeon staircase.