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Chapter 15: Proceed With Caution

Or, the chapter in which I cry havoc when I experience an unusual form of Christmas holiday with a disturbing twist in the tail

Harry was very excited about the seasonal festivities, as he'd been last Christmas, but this year his anticipation seemed to have an additional edge to it because he had friends to spend the time with as well. He was invited to a couple of Christmas parties held by classmates at their homes, and also to a sleepover at Stuart's house a week before Christmas. I had to negotiate extensively with the Dursleys when seeking their agreement that Harry could attend these events but I managed to accomplish this eventually.

Harry had been exchanging letters with Joshua Hutchinson and Ronald Weasley on a regular basis since meeting each of them. He invited the Weasley boy to accompany us on one of our London ice skating trips towards the end of November, with my permission. To avoid any awkwardness because of the cost of the tickets, we agreed that Harry should tell the Weasleys that there was an offer on – buy two tickets, get a third free. (I wouldn't normally encourage a child to lie, but I saw no harm in it, given the circumstances). On this basis the Weasley parents agreed to Ronald accompanying us, and Mrs. Weasley promised to contribute to the costs by providing a packed lunch in a hamper for us all. Harry then told me in confidence that his friend hadn't skated before and was nervous about falling over and making a fool of himself in public, so we visited the Burrow beforehand a couple of times to give him lessons. (It's easy enough to magically flood a patch of grass with water and then ice that over to make a temporary rink). He fell over so many times that I expect even the cushioning charms I used didn't prevent bruising entirely, but after a few practice sessions I decided that he was ready. Mr. Weasley seemed to enjoy our visit to London, though I could tell that my presence was still unnerving him. I was tempted to say to him that if he thought I was frightening now then he should have seen me a couple of years ago. Harry had a good time, and he was patient when explaining to his friend what ordinary muggle objects were and how they worked. (This had to be done quite a lot).

It was during this time of year that I came up with the idea of making a will. As a single man with no dependents and limited assets, it hadn't seemed worth doing so before. However, things were different now that I had Harry to think about. After all, I did have more than seventeen thousand galleons saved up from my wages over the years which he could inherit, plus my collection of Potions books would be worth a fair amount, and then there was my house at Spinner's End. It was a shabby place in a run-down part of town and I disliked it considerably, but it had to be worth something.

You may be wondering why I had not sold the property long since, if I felt so negative about it. Basically, it was because I was put off by the logistical challenges which doing so would entail. The house was in a muggle area, it had been built by muggles and there wasn't a single other magical family in Cokeworth that I knew of. I'd actually tried to sell it three times over the years via a magical estate agency and had no luck, even with setting a low price, which meant that I would have to go down the muggle route. This had two inherent problems. Firstly, I'd have to cleanse the house entirely of all magical residue, and then arrange for the appropriate Ministry Department to test the place and provide me with a Certificate of Muggle Suitability. (This was a fairly expensive document, but it would provide me with legal protection in the case of any subsequent issues with muggle exposure to magic on the premises, and therefore was worth it for the peace of mind and insurance that it offered). And secondly, it would be difficult to fill in all of the muggle paperwork for the sale. I knew that I wouldn't understand most of it anyway – and without the use of a phone, I thought it would be difficult to make the necessary arrangements. I believed that the process of selling a property the muggle way took several months at minimum, even in normal circumstances.

As it stood though, I felt that the Spinner's End house would need to be sold before I could have the will made. It hadn't seemed worth bothering before, but the desire to resolve the issue for Harry's sake gave me the proper motivation. After all, it would be unfair to leave the house to him in my will, and thus make him have to deal with all of the difficulties which I was put off by. It occurred to me however that the Dursleys might have some suggestions for achieving a quick sale. Petunia merely sniffed with derision when I mentioned this to them, but Vernon came up with the idea of selling the place by auction, rather than the traditional method of using an estate agent. You still had to sort out the paperwork, he said, and it probably would sell for a lower price, but it would also take less time and be easier to manage remotely. This sounded like a good option, so I decided to look into it further as soon as Christmas was over.


In the last week of November, I made a rare weekday evening appearance at Privet Drive, as requested by Petunia. She and Vernon were taking Dudley to parents' evening at school, so I was asked to come round and look after Harry while they were out. Captain Useful to the rescue once again!

I didn't mind though, I have to say. The Dursleys would only be gone for a couple of hours, and I was happy to have the chance to continue our discussions about Christmas arrangements – although as it turned out, Harry had other plans initially.

"Can you wait in the kitchen while I get things ready?" he asked after the Dursleys had departed.

Harry was grinning widely, and thus I looked at him with considerably scepticism. "Should I be worried?"

"No, it's a nice surprise, you'll see."

I did as requested. When Harry joined me in the kitchen, he was carrying a home-made chocolate cake. There was a big number 1 drawn on top with white icing and a single candle lit.

"Harry, what is this?"

"Well, I think you'll find it's a cake. I made it. I gave Stuart some money and he and his Mum bought the ingredients for me, then I sneaked down to bake it when everyone was asleep last night. Do you like it?"

I smiled at him. "Yes, of course – but what is it for?"

"To celebrate the fact that it's been a year since we first met, of course!"

Why yes, it was a year since Harry had become a part of my life… I'd forgotten. And what a tumultuous year it had been!

I gave him a hug. "That's a lovely thought. Thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome," he said cheerfully. "Do you want some?"

"Absolutely."

The cake (eaten, of course, from Harry's lopsided home-made plate) was delicious. I complimented him on his baking skills after I'd finished off my slice, though he modestly said that it had been a very simple recipe. He wrapped five slices in tin foil for me to take back to Hogwarts – one more for me, one for Joshua Hutchinson, one for the Headmaster, one for Mafty and the last one for Professor McGonagall.

"I just thought of something," Harry said ten minutes later. "If I've known you for twelve months then you must have had a birthday during the year."

"Well, obviously."

"But when was it?"

"When? Oh, January the ninth."

"That's months and months ago! You should have said something, then we could have celebrated it."

"At your age, Harry, a birthday is celebrated. At my age, it is merely waved past with indifference."

"Well, we're celebrating the next one," Harry said firmly. "I insist. It's only a few weeks away, but there's time to plan stuff."

I quickly shook my head. "There is no need for planning, I assure you. If you really want to do something then perhaps a meal out would be acceptable."

"No party?"

"Absolutely not," I replied, fixing him with a professorial stare. "I am party intolerant."

"Okaaayyy… I guess a meal out would be fun."

"Indeed. Thank you for the suggestion. I will pay, of course."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully. "You shouldn't have to, since it's your birthday and all, but it might have been a bit expensive for me to manage on my own."

"It's not a problem."

"Just as well that the Dursleys were going to parents' evening, or I might never have found out," Harry said cheerfully. "They didn't complain at all when I asked if you could look after me while they were gone, instead of Mrs. Figg. I'm glad I didn't have to go to her house; the cats there smell worse than ever, these days."

"What happens at a parents' evening?"

"I think the parents just go round and speak to all of the teachers in turn about their kid's work. If any of the staff say anything bad about Dudley then Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always claim that he's been misunderstood, and there's nothing wrong with him."

"Will they ask about your work as well?"

Harry smirked. "No, of course not! Dudley wouldn't let them, even if they wanted to. If they find out that his group isn't the top one in our year then he couldn't keep lying to them about how he's better than me."

I felt rather uncomfortable about this. "Perhaps I should have gone, then; I could have spoken to your teachers separately. You shouldn't miss out on these things."

"No, it's fine. There's really no point. I'm third in my class overall, you know. I make sure to work hard enough to get good marks, because that way I can stay in the Alpha group and still be with Stuart and Nathan and my other friends."

"Is that your only motivation for doing well?" I asked in surprise.

"Well yeah, pretty much."

"Harry…"

He shrugged. "The thing is Professor, I won't need most of the things I'm learning this year when I get to Hogwarts. Ethics class is fun, and I know that I have to be good at Maths and English, but apart from that I'll never use any of my classwork again."

"You can't be sure of that," I replied disapprovingly. "It's important not to limit your options in later life."

"You only think that because you're a teacher," he said teasingly. "But honestly, what use is muggle biology or economics or history going to be to me? I don't need any of it. It's not like it's important to do well. As long as I can write and spell properly and do basic maths calculations, that's all I have to know for Hogwarts, isn't it?"

I sighed. "Yes, technically, but…"

"But nothing! I'm not doing any more than I have to. You should be glad that I need to stay in the Alpha group or I wouldn't be bothering at all. And you know there isn't anything you can do about it." He took the sting out of the words by aiming a cheeky grin at me.

"Yes, that is unfortunately true. It's a pity, though… you could be top of the class, I'm sure, if you wanted to be."

"Too much hard work," he replied firmly.

I shook my head. "I officially disapprove."

"And I officially disapprove of your disapproval," he retorted with a smirk.

"It's important to have a well-rounded education, Harry. If you can do better then I think you should."

"But Professor, you never went to a muggle primary school and you've done all right."

"You should not be comparing yourself to me, Harry. I assure you, that is never a productive exercise. As a teacher myself, I would like you to fulfil your capabilities."

"I bet you say lots of teachery things in class. You know, like 'it's your own time you're wasting' and 'why didn't you go to the toilet at break time?' and 'don't meow in the classroom'."

"Teachery is not a word, and if you think it is then that just proves you need to study harder. Also, no I don't say any of those things, and please don't change the subject."

"I'm not! We're still talking about school. Just, you know, a bit differently."

I looked at him pointedly. "I'm proud of your school marks, Harry – they're very good. I just didn't realise up to this point that they could be a little better. Perhaps it's because I'm a Slytherin and therefore prize ambition as a quality, but I would like to you work to the best of your ability."

"And I will," Harry said, giving me a brilliant smile, "when I'm at Hogwarts."

I decided not to press the issue because much to my annoyance, I couldn't come up with a single logical argument to prove that I was right. (I hate it when that happens). Reluctantly, I changed the subject and we talked about Christmas plans for the rest of the night.


I managed to ensure that Harry had plenty of festive activities to enjoy during December, which included the requested paintball session. (Of that, I will only say that Harry is an extremely persistent attacker, and being hit by multiple blobs of paint fired at high speed by a ten year old who was mostly moving too fast for me to retaliate was even more painful and annoying than you might expect. By the end of it, I looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. I'm definitely never doing that again).

I collected an extremely excited Harry from Privet Drive on December 22nd. He'd prepared Christmas presents for each member of the Weasley family which had been carefully packed in his luggage. This had been a tricky matter to get right, requiring a diplomatic letter to be sent beforehand to Mrs. Weasley in order to check what might be appropriate gifts for him to give to each family member – nothing at all pricey, of course. In the end, we went down the home made route and worked together on some small items for him to give to each person.

When we reached the Burrow, I wasn't surprised to see that it was now bedecked with Christmas decorations in every room, and indeed there was barely a surface that wasn't crammed with objects of all sorts. This house would never suit me – it had far too much noise and clutter – but I could understand why Harry admired it so much. After all, it was the complete opposite of number 4 Privet Drive in every respect. I was invited to stay for lunch but I wanted to give Harry the chance to settle in and meet the remaining members of the family, so I pleaded a prior engagement and said farewell.


I had a pleasant Christmas Day morning, starting off as usual with spending time with the Slytherins in the common room for gift opening. I visit the Slytherin common room fairly regularly for meetings with the students, but this is the only time of year when I socialise with them there. There were twelve of us in total this time, and we spent a pleasant couple of hours chatting and joking with one another, sharing boxes of chocolates and so on. This was also one of the years when I was the victim of a joke 'gift' from a wisely anonymous Slytherin student. Sadly, sending me practical jokes in the form of Christmas presents has become something of a Slytherin tradition. The students all know that I'll be in the common room when they're received, and that their classmates will therefore be witness to any successful pranks, so they regularly try to trick me in some way. Mostly I can detect those type of traps and neutralise them immediately, but not in this case. I opened up a harmless-looking box and was hit with a bright green glitter bomb which exploded all over me, causing the students to shriek with laughter and dive for cover as the thing showered me with glitter which took over an hour to remove afterwards. And I'd checked the box for curses, hexes and all manner of general pitfalls before opening it as well! I was reluctantly impressed. Some of my Slytherins are exceedingly talented, though they don't always use their talents in productive ways…

Lunch that day was at 1pm, and on Christmas Day it's always a festive meal with staff and students eating together for once, although I found that I had little appetite for some reason and just picked at my food. I was looking forward to seeing Harry later in the day, although it felt somewhat awkward to think about spending time with him at the Burrow. Not that it really mattered – if we could enjoy each other's company at Privet Dive then doing so anywhere else should be a breeze.

I arrived at the Burrow on the dot of 6pm via floo as agreed. The appetising smells coming from the kitchen were making me regret having had such a small lunch. Now I had been told, as you may recall, that everyone would be lazing around in their rooms by this time of day, virtually comatose from the effects of a massive Christmas dinner. This, it turned out, was not at all the case. Every Weasley was present and correct, all looking perky and smirky, and they were clearly waiting for me to arrive. They seemed, indeed, to be bursting with anticipation. There was quite obviously a secret which they all knew and I didn't. I never liked it when that happened.

Something, I could tell, was going on.

Harry burst into the room, looking cheerful. He was wearing a jumper knitted in Gryffindor colours (naturally) with a big letter H on it. "Happy Christmas, Professor!" He gave me a hug, leading to an audible twinly snigger.

"Happy Christmas to you, Harry," I said. "And to you all, of course. I trust you're having a pleasant day?"

"Oh, we are," Fred Weasley said, causing everyone else to giggle. I looked at him narrowly. I could only hope that I would survive whatever these Gryffindors had in store for me.

"I got lots of presents this morning," Harry said cheerfully. "And I bought one for you, which I know you'll like, after a while. And once we've given each other gifts then it'll be time for dinner."

"Yes of course, I'll be gone by then."

"No Professor, I mean Christmas dinner. Yours too. We postponed it until now so you could join us!"

I looked around at the grinning Weasleys. "What?"

Mr. Weasley stepped forward. "We normally have our Christmas Day meal at around 2pm Professor, but Harry was sorry not to see you so we decided to eat it later, this year. You're both to be our honoured guests."

I was simultaneously horrified at the idea of participating in a Weasley family gathering and touched that they would be so considerate of Harry's needs as to alter their mealtime so that I could be included. "That's very kind, thank you." And then suddenly, I had a highly disturbing thought. "Harry… does this have anything to do with the fact that I barely ate any lunch today?"

The Weasley family started chuckling, even the adults. Harry looked at me in a 'technically guilty but not feeling it' sort of way. "Well, I might have written to the Headmaster and told him what we were planning and asked him to use a spell to make sure you didn't eat a lot of food at lunchtime… but you don't mind, right?"

As if I could admit to minding, even if I did, with such an audience! "I'll forgive you, this once," I said, and smiled at him.

"Do you think you can manage to forgive him twice?" Bill Weasley said with a wide grin, "because if so then that really would be useful."

"What do you mean?" I asked suspiciously. (And with not a little dread). The Weasley-heavy audience could barely hold back their merriment.

"Have you got any gifts for me?" Harry asked, in a patently not-subtle attempt to divert me. As it was Christmas and I didn't want a quarrel, I let the subject drop and produced his presents. These had been carefully chosen to appeal to an age-sensitive boy. He liked his new clothes, and the board game, watch and radio that I bought him were also well received. He loved my main gift, which was another hand-made book – but this one documented the lives of his parents, with many pictures and anecdotes interspersed. I'd spent a lot of time making it and researching the contents, with help from Professor McGonagall and other members of staff who remembered the Potters. I'd been worried about handing over such an emotionally sensitive gift while in company, but though Harry shed a couple of tears, he said that it was the best present ever. I was relieved at this. (Except that all the while, the Weasleys stared with eager anticipation, as if the show was about to start and I was the main act).

"And now it's time for your present," he said, looking a little nervous. "I know you'll be pleased with him. Erm, with it. I'll go and fetch it."

As he ran out of the room, I glanced at Mr. Weasley. "Should I be worried?" He merely smiled awkwardly. Charlie Weasley had the nerve to wink at me, while the younger children whispered to each other, giggling madly. Was it too late to feign illness and sneak off?

Well yes, because Harry came back into the room carrying a large cardboard box with a bow on it. There were scuffling sounds coming from inside. "Harry, why is that box making a noise?"

He smiled nervously and put the box on the floor. "Open it and see."

I opened it. There was a puppy inside. A puppy!

To be precise, some kind of brown, eager-looking canine, wagging its tale at me. The Weasleys, even sober Percy, were unable to hold back their laughter as I stared into the box with horror. I literally, and probably for the first time, was lost for words. The Weasleys, however, were not. They all spoke at once, though most of it barely registered, but I did pick up a few remarks.

From Ronald Weasley: "I think Harry's really in trouble now. If he was a Hogwarts student already then he'd probably get at least fifty detentions…"

And George Weasley: "When we get back to school, nobody – and I mean nobody – will have a better story about their Christmas holidays to tell than us!"

Also, Percy Weasley: "How Professor Snape is meant to find the time to look after that animal, I've really no idea…"

And finally, Fred Weasley: "Harry, you broke our Potions professor!"

I gave Harry a very disapproving look. He countered with his best 'I am an innocent cherub' smile. This entirely failed to work. "I think you and I had better go outside for a little talk," I told him meaningfully. He tried the smile again, and I paid no attention.

"Dinner in ten minutes, Professor!" Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully, as we went to the front door.

"Yes, right," I replied absently.

The dog, seeing that we were about to leave, scrambled to get out of the box and come along too. "Stay!" I instructed. It did not stay.

"He's just really keen to get to know you better," Harry said apologetically. "And also, the man in the pet shop in Diagon Alley put this spell on him, he said it would help him develop trust in you and see you as his master, but the spell won't settle down until you touch his collar and give him a name."

I knew what he was referring to; a low-level bonding spell, typically applied to pets such as dogs for a couple of weeks to help them become attached to their new owners more quickly. The animal would be aware at some level that the bond had not yet been properly ratified, and would be restless as a result. We went outside, dog firmly following, and I cast a privacy charm.

"Harry, where did this dog come from? How did it get here?"

Harry looked evasive. "Well, it was bought just before Christmas and looked after for a few days…"

"Who looked after it, the tooth fairy?"

"Well no, that would be silly."

"I'm serious, Harry. Tell me the whole story."

"Well, I know you liked the calendar I made for you last year but even so, I wanted to buy you something really good this Christmas, with my own money from my vault. I thought of a dog because you don't seem to have many friends apart from me and Josh, but Josh is busy learning stuff and I can't see you a lot of the time. I thought you might enjoy having him for company. Don't you like him?"

I forced myself to smile. "Of course I do. He's a lovely dog, but I do work full time, Harry. I don't have the time to—"

"Mafty will help!" Harry interrupted. "I asked him about it and he was really pleased, he said he'd take care of everything if you wanted him to. And the Headmaster told me that he'd sort something out as well. I got you all the equipment you need, it's in your quarters now at Hogwarts. There's a dog bed and food and toys and a lead and everything!"

"You really have been busy, haven't you?" I said slowly, as I tried to come to terms with this awful situation.

"Well, I wanted to get everything just right."

"That was sensible, but even so, I don't think a castle is the best place for a dog to live, do you? My quarters are in the dungeons as well. He won't see much sunlight."

"But you can take him on walks, can't you?" Harry said quickly. "It will do you good to spend more time outdoors. And Josh says he'll do some walking for you as well, so that's helpful, isn't it?"

"He knows about this already?"

"Well yeah," Harry admitted. "I wrote and asked him what he thought, because he's got a dog of his own so he could tell me stuff. Josh said it was a great idea to buy one for you. He suggested that you ask some other students to help with walks as well. He said that several of his friends really miss their own dogs and would like to help, he's sure."

"Harry, there are no dogs in the school. None! They're not allowed!"

"Not for students, but teachers are different. You told me Hagrid has one. Anyway, I wrote to the Headmaster before I bought the dog and got his permission."

"You did what?" I said incredulously. Surely Dumbledore would know me better than to say yes and turn down such an idea flat. Wouldn't he?

"Yes. Here you are," Harry said smugly, producing the letter from his pocket. "I thought you'd want to see it."

I looked at it, and yes, there it was – the Headmaster had not only given Harry permission to get the bloody dog, he'd approved of the whole notion! Specifically, he wrote: "I am pleased to support your choice of Christmas gift for Professor Snape. I suspect that he will find dog ownership to be a little difficult at first, but I believe that he'll get used to it in time, and will eventually enjoy the companionship which a trusted pet provides."

Oh, would I now? Would I, indeed? My most fervent desire at that moment was to storm back to Hogwarts and deal with that interfering old man… but of course, that would have to wait. Thanks to him, I had an unexpected second Christmas lunch to get through first.

Harry looked at me optimistically. "So you see Professor, it's all going to be fine. Mafty and Josh will help you, and I will when I come to Hogwarts. I know you'll get on well with the dog, when you're used to him."

"Harry," I said sternly, "did you buy this dog for me or for you?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said, but I could tell from the look on his face that he knew very well.

"Let me spell it out for you then. You would like a dog but you're not allowed one, either at home or at Hogwarts. This way, you can spend time with a dog on a regular basis from next September. Are you really going to pretend that you hadn't thought of that?"

"Well…" he said reluctantly, "I suppose I might have hoped to share him with you a bit. But he's still your dog, Professor!"

"Lucky me…"

Harry looked downcast. "You don't like him, do you? The man in the shop said it was a big risk, buying a pet as a surprise for someone who isn't a pet person normally, but I was sure it would be all right. Are you going to send him back? They'll take him, I made sure to check on that."

I stared down at him, fighting an inward battle with myself. I didn't want or need a dog. I valued the solitude and the quiet of my quarters at Hogwarts. I needed the peace which I had there, after spending all day teaching and being around noisy students, but now that would be lost. If I kept this dog, I'd never be on my own.

But how could I refuse it? This animal's arrival would impose a lifestyle upon me that I had no desire for whatsoever, but Harry was looking at me with those beseeching eyes... It was a frustrating situation, though I had to give him credit for researching the thing properly. And also, he'd asked Dumbledore for permission, and if only that had been refused, as it should have been…

So I didn't blame Harry for this (though he'd chosen an inappropriate gift) or the Weasleys (though they'd obviously helped him purchase it) or Mafty, or Joshua Hutchinson, or anyone else who'd colluded with Harry to pull off this master-shock. However, I felt a mounting sense of resentment that the Headmaster hadn't prevented it – and a growing feeling of humiliation at the way in which I'd been so publicly blindsided by this whole thing. All of those Gryffindors laughing at me, just like in the old days… I hated being the subject of such ridicule.

I had a sudden image in my mind of James Potter, in whatever realm of the afterlife he now inhabited, roaring with laughter at what his son had done to me. Oh Potter, your boy has played a cleverer trick on me than you ever managed during the whole of our seven years at Hogwarts!

But hard though it was, I knew what had to be done; for Harry's sake, I had to accept the situation.

"Harry," I said, "I see now that you are very much your father's son."

"But in a good way, right?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, Harry – in a good way." I gave him a hug. "Of course I will keep the dog. Thank you very much for him."

"Phew!" Harry said, hugging me back. "For a minute there, I really thought you'd get rid of him."

"I couldn't do that. And I appreciate the thought. But you know that I have no experience whatever in looking after animals of this type, hmm?"

"I know, but I bought you some books about dog care and they're in your rooms at Hogwarts as well. I asked Mafty to read them all first and make sure everything's ready for when you both get back."

Ah yes, my loyal house elf. You know, there was a time when he only took orders from me.

"Well, I suppose that will help. I expect we should give him a name now." I glanced down at the dog, who during the whole of our conversation had been gambolling around anxiously at our feet. "What breed is he, do you know?"

"A Labrador. The man in the shop said they make loyal and friendly companions. He's had all of his disease prevention potions and spells for the next year. What do you want to call him? The Weasleys have been giving me lots of suggestions for names – some of the ones from the twins were a bit rude, to be honest – but only you can choose."

My thoughts turned again to James Potter, whom I had hated in life but couldn't hate now because the love I felt for his son seemed to have entirely diluted my anger towards him. I thought about all of the Christmas holidays that the Potters had missed spending with their son, and about how – if those in the afterlife had the ability to see the living – it would have been tremendously painful for them to watch Harry's suffering at Christmas, when he was excluded from all of the celebrations by the unwelcoming Dursleys. It also occurred to me that James Potter would have bought his son a dog one Christmas, if he'd only lived long enough to have the chance.

"Do you recall how you named your owl after me, but in a way that nobody else would know it?" I said. "Well, I think I would like to do something similar, and call this dog after your father. After all, I can quite imagine him presenting you with a puppy-filled box one Christmas morning."

Harry looked delighted. "That's a great idea! So what will his actual name be?"

"JP, after your father's initials. We'll tell everyone else that it stands for Just Pet."

"JP… I love it," Harry said, smiling brilliantly.

I knelt down and touched the dog's collar. "Your name is JP," I said. The collar glowed a bright silver colour for a moment, and a tag appeared with his new name on. JP started to wag his tail and lick me. I stroked his head. "He seems pleased."

"Oh, he is!"

"Yes well, the next time you want to buy me something, make it a book or a pair of gloves, will you? Something non-alive, in any case."

"Okay," Harry grinned.

The door opened and Mrs. Weasley summoned us in to dinner. I didn't really want any food. I was upset but working hard to hide it, for Harry's sake. I knew that I needed to be a pleasant and polite guest, so as to ensure that my presence didn't spoil the day for everyone else, and I think I concealed my feelings well enough. The food itself was excellent and Harry and I were certainly made to feel welcome, though I had to put up with numerous dog-related jokes at my expense all through the meal. There was non-stop chatter and loudness, which didn't stop JP from curling up for a nap by the fire once he'd eaten his share.

The meal finished at around 8pm and I thanked my still amused hosts, said goodbye to Harry and picked up my sleeping hound to floo him back to Hogwarts. Back in my normally well-arranged quarters, canine objects galore could be seen. There was a dog bed in the corner of the living room and I placed JP there before summoning Mafty – who was apologetic for keeping the whole thing a secret and so on, but what use is an apology when you're not really that sorry? I didn't have the energy to scold him, and merely said that he would be forgiven if he took charge of preparing JP's food and anything else that he might need, which Mafty willingly agreed to. Indeed, he was practically salivating at the prospect of so much extra work.

I sat down on my sofa, brooding heavily. The staff Christmas party would be in full swing by now, but I was in no mood for celebrating. I accepted that I was now a dog owner, but I was doing this ENTIRELY UNDER DURESS. And anyway, I was still furious with the Headmaster, so it seemed best not to see him until the next day, when I would have calmed down. Which, of course, is why he showed up at my door less than ten minutes later. Can I have nothing these days? Nothing at all?

"Ah Severus," he said, his jovial smile fading as he took in my grim expression, "I just thought I'd call by and see how your day was. May I come in?"

I didn't move. "There's no need. You know exactly how my day was, Headmaster, since you were responsible for most of it."

"Well yes, I did help young Harry with his plans, and I realise you might be a little annoyed by that… are you sure that I can't come in?"

Seeing that he wasn't going to take no for an answer, I stepped back and allowed him into the room. "I suggest you don't linger, or I might be tempted to say something unpleasant."

"Oh dear," he replied with dismay, "it didn't go well, then? I'm sorry. I see the dog is already settling in. He looks like a pleasant little fellow, don't you think?"

"That is entirely irrelevant. You had no right to force him on me," I snapped. "You made a fool out of me in front of the entire Weasley family, and that's only the beginning of it. I've still got to face the other Professors, and then when next term starts I'll have the whole school laughing at me. How could you humiliate me like this?"

"Humiliate you?" he stared at me, aghast. "Severus, that was absolutely not my intention, and if I've done so inadvertently then truly, I'm very sorry." He reached out and took my hand. "Please, tell me what happened."

I stumbled through an account of the events of the last few hours. "Don't you understand, Headmaster? I can't stand being ridiculed, especially by a group of Gryffindors. I took so much of that as a student that I can't bear it now. And they were all laughing and joking at my expense, while all the time I had to pretend I liked the dog and be a courteous guest, and…"

"And it all felt too much to handle," Dumbledore said softly. "I see. I really am sorry, Severus. I never wanted to hurt you in this way."

"Then why didn't you say no when Harry asked you for permission to buy the dog?" I said with frustration. "This could all have been avoided then."

He smiled ruefully. "It was a deeply difficult decision. I weighed all of the facts very carefully. I do honestly believe that when you become used to having a pet that you'll grow to accept and like him. But also – and I will understand if this makes you angry – I was keen to use this as an opportunity to start to earn Harry's trust. This is the first thing which he has asked of me. If I'd refused it then he might be reluctant to come to me with more important requests later on."

I stared at him. "Do you ever stop thinking about the Dark Lord's return, even for a moment?"

"Oh yes of course, but I admit that it is a frequent topic upon which my mind dwells. Forgive me, Severus, for any damage which you have suffered as a result of that."

"That's all very well, but now I have to find the time to take care of an unwanted pet. As my employer, are you actually aware that I have a more than full time job?"

"I can help with that," he said quickly, "but I would like to discuss your feelings before we turn to the practical aspects. Do you feel that the Weasley family deliberately set out to make you feel bad? I wouldn't have expected that."

I sighed. "No, I don't suppose they did, but they certainly wrung every drop of humour from the situation. One of the Weasley twins was boasting about what a good story it would be to tell when he was back at school."

He put his arm around me, smiling gently. "And perhaps it will be a good story, for half a day or a day. After that, it will be forgotten. And in any case, if by the start of term you are wandering round with this dog and apparently quite untroubled by his presence then anything the Weasleys say will be somewhat diminished in credibility, don't you think?"

I considered this. Yes, there was something in it. The Weasley twins were already known for their practical jokes, and everyone knew they'd lie about pretty much anything if it suited them. Also, they might not get too much support in telling the tale from their older brothers, especially their disapproving brother Percy. Perhaps the other students would think they were exaggerating.

"You may be right," I admitted.

"I hope so. Though I say it myself, I often am."

I sighed heavily. "What is it with you, Dumbledore? I can't remain angry with you for very long at all these days, even if you do deserve it. There was a time when I could nurse a grudge against you because of some trifling matter for weeks, or even months, and here I am forgiving you within minutes. What have I done to myself?"

"You have made yourself into someone wonderful, as I always knew you had the potential to do. And as for the other Professors, yes, they will tease you – but it will be in friendship, Severus. You are respected and liked by your fellow staff members, and they wouldn't want to hurt you for a moment. But you know, what matters right now is the fact that Harry loves you and wants you to be happy. He is genuinely concerned about you being lonely. He talked to me about it when we met up earlier in the year, and he wrote about it at length in the letter he sent asking for permission to get you a dog."

"I'm not lonely. Well, not as much as I used to be. I have him. And, well… I also have you. I consider myself to be very lucky, in that respect," I said, adding with a grimace, "even if you have given me a rather hideous shock today."

"Thank you, Severus," he said, smiling at me fondly. "Now, how would you feel about coming along to the Christmas party in a little while? I suspect it will continue for some hours yet."

I was comforted by his words, and my anger towards him was softened as I saw how concerned he was for me. The last thing I wanted was to go and be 'teased' by my fellow Professors, but it would have to happen sooner or later, and maybe it would be good to get the ordeal over with. "Perhaps for half an hour or so," I conceded. "Though if the dog wakes up then he'll wonder where I am. And where he is, I suppose."

"I'll apply a spell to keep him sleeping until morning," Dumbledore promised

"And what happens then? There are reasons why you don't allow dogs as pets here – they need walking, playing with, regular attention. Toads and owls and cats are permitted because they can be left alone for reasonable amounts of time and be semi-independent. This dog can't be allowed in the Potions classroom, it would be far too dangerous. I don't see him having much quality of life, being alone in my office all day – and I'm so busy already, I really don't need another drain on my time."

"Well yes, you'll need help, but that's all arranged," he said, smiling at me. I could see he was relieved that the worst of my temper had passed. "Come and sit down for a minute, and I'll tell you all about it."

Dumbledore took out a booklet from his pocket. It was decorated with pictures of assorted dogs romping around in green fields. I read the title on the front: Mook Farm – canine care and boarding, seven days a week, daytime and overnight. Let us look after your dog. We're the best in the business!

"I've already registered this little animal," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "He has a pre-paid lifetime anytime package. Normally the Mooks prefer to meet a dog before confirming acceptance, in case there are any behavioural issues to be taken into account, you know, but I was able to convince them to make an exception in this case. Meredith Mook is an old friend of mine, you see."

"Registered him? For what, exactly?"

"Why, to be looked after at Mook Farm while you're working, or busy, or seeing Harry, or just wanting a rest. The farm is in the Welsh hills. It covers about twenty acres of land; it's a beautiful place and the dogs receive the very best of care. I toured the facility myself a couple of weeks ago and I was very impressed with what I saw."

I felt as if a sudden glimmer of light had come into my situation. "Are you saying that I can take this dog to Mook Farm and safely leave him there to be looked after?"

"Why yes, whenever you like. They're connected to the floo network and you can also apparate in to the main entrance. They prefer not to have unscheduled drop-offs or collections between 10pm and 5am but it is possible to do so if there's an emergency. Apart from that, you can leave the dog there at any time and for as long as you like, including overnight should you wish to. Certainly I would suggest he board at Mook Farm for weekdays while you're teaching, and apart from that it would just be whenever you wanted. There's no need for any advance notice, you can just show up."

"That will be helpful," I admitted. "Yes, with that kind of support I might be able to manage better."

"Good, that's good. Meredith suggested you might both come over during the Christmas holidays, any time from tomorrow, and he'll help you set everything up. He and his colleagues can teach you the basics of good dog ownership."

"I will visit him tomorrow," I said firmly. I'd probably go right away if I could.

"Excellent. I'm sure you and… what is the dog's name?"

"JP."

"Indeed?" he looked intrigued by this, but didn't allow himself to be distracted. "Yes, you and JP will get on well together."

"We'll see," I said glumly.

He patted me on the shoulder. "We will indeed. I'm happy for you to bring him to the Great Hall for meals if you like, by the way. And now, shall we join the festivities? It won't be so bad, I assure you."

I got up and followed him to the second staff common room. I knew there was an awful lot to sort out, but options were starting to emerge, and at least I didn't have to decide anything until the morning. When we entered the room and the other Professors spotted me, every single one of them starting woofing and growling – well, those that weren't laughing their heads off, that is. But this time I was prepared for it, and I strode onto the field of battle, determined to sort them all out. As the head of Slytherin, I should be more than a match for this group of juvenile inebriates! Though perhaps a drink might help with the process… just the one, of course.


I woke up the following morning in bed with a thumping headache, an extremely dry mouth and only the haziest recollection of returning to my rooms after the party. I had a vague sort of idea that the Headmaster might have levitated me back. I couldn't remember exactly how many drinks I'd had, but it was enough to leave me with a considerable hangover. Fortunately I always had a potion for this close to hand – it was meant to be for errant Slytherin students, but this time I willingly self-medicated. In due course I became aware of sounds of movement outside my bedroom door. So, it was up then.

I decided to allow myself a short interval before dealing with JP and whatever damage he'd managed to do to my living room while I slept. I was still a little bit raw emotionally, but I did feel a lot better than I had the day before. I showered and got dressed while mulling over the situation. Having use of the Mook Farm facilities would definitely help me out, and I was relieved that I'd still be able to be alone sometimes.

I opened the bedroom door and the dog was immediately upon me, all eagerness to say good morning. I was pleased to see that he hadn't chewed anything up and the room looked much as it had the night before.

"Yes yes, no need to get so excited, JP. I'd ask if you slept well, but thanks to the Headmaster's magical interference, I'm well aware that you had no choice in the matter." I stroked him and then called for Mafty. JP's excitement doubled as he arrived, and Mafty patted him indulgently.

"Morning, Master Snape. I am hoping you is feeling better now?"

"I'm fine, Mafty. I need to sort out a feeding regimen for this dog. Should he be eating separately to me? The Headmaster did talk about taking him to the Great Hall, but I'm not sure where his food would be placed."

"That is all sorted out, Master Snape! You is to swap places at the dining table with Professor Vector, so that you is at the end of the table, and JP's feeding and water bowls is being placed next to you on the floor."

I sighed. "That's been agreed with Professor Vector, has it?"

"Yes, Master Snape. But if you ever wants to eat any meal here then when you ask for this, I is also bringing JP's meal to this room."

"Very well. I think we'll dine in the Great Hall this morning, so please set everything up for me."

"Right away, Master Snape!"

I considered whether to put JP on a lead but I decided to see what he was like without one. He was unlikely to wander off while the bonding spell was in force, I assumed. As we walked through the corridors (well, I walked and JP ran back and forward excitedly) I made plans to go over to Mook Farm that morning. I needed some help in becoming a competent dog owner – in fact, I needed as much help as I could possibly get.

JP's excitement grew as we walked into the nearly empty Great Hall. He immediately started exploring, sniffing everything that moved and many things that didn't. Those students who'd stayed on for the holidays gawped as they saw him. However, JP re-joined me quickly enough when his food arrived and I was impressed by how quickly he consumed it. Of course, then he started cajoling me for some of my food, but I decided to be firm from the start about refusing him because otherwise he could end up overweight very quickly. But my dog was undeterred, and he merely went off to try his moves on the other Professors, who chuckled and slipped him the odd treat or two when they thought I wasn't looking. A couple of ghosts drifted in after that and JP ran over to play with them. He seemed surprised when he tried to jump up to one and only ended up jumping through them, but this didn't put him off from trying again.

After breakfast, I took JP outside for a quick walk. He wasn't very impressed with the rain, however, so we didn't stay long. I decided to mark essays for an hour or so in my office, where I wasn't surprised to see that Mafty had already placed another dog bed by the fire. JP settled down for a post-meal snooze while I got to work reading the essays. (I expect you can tell who had the better part of the deal there).

We flooed over to Mook Farm a couple of hours later. Meredith Mook came bustling out of the office to meet us both, a pair of large dogs close to his heels. JP happily bounded up to them and they regarded him with aloof detachment. Mr. Mook was a chubby man with long grey hair and a smart, bushy moustache, who looked about eighty years old but had the energy of someone much younger. He welcomed me pleasantly and then gave us a guided tour of the farm. Now, I haven't the first idea what criteria should be used to assess such a facility, but as far as I could see, those canines present were absolutely in the lap of luxury. The place was much larger than I'd expected, very well equipped, and the dogs had considerable freedom of movement.

"We like them to be able to run about, you know," Mr. Mook said when I commented on this. "We operate a regular schedule of activities to keep their minds alert and challenged, but they have intervals of free time as well. It's important for dogs to have variety in their day. Make no mistake though, they can't escape from the farm; there are highly robust magical barriers at our borders, with anti-muggle spells included naturally, and we have multiple security measures in place as well. I always say that it's the threat which you're not prepared for that gets you."

Considering the unwanted Christmas gift which I'd received the previous day, I couldn't agree more. "That sounds sensible. Are there any specific threats which I should be aware of?"

"Oh no, we don't usually have any issues. I just don't think we should be lax when it comes to pet safety. Take werewolves, for example – they don't target dogs and we've never had any trouble with them, but we still apply special safety measures on full moon nights, just in case. You seem to have a nice, amicable one there," he said, watching with a smile as JP romped across the yard and attempted unsuccessfully to climb up the side of a nearby Great Dane. "Ever owned a dog before, or lived with one?"

"I have not. If you could perhaps explain some of the basic responsibilities which having a pet entails then I would appreciate it."

"Of course! Let's go along to one of our discussion rooms and we'll have a good talk."

Mr. Mook led us to a corridor containing various meeting rooms, all with dog-related names. He chose to use the Lassie room. ("It amuses the muggleborns, you know," he said, with a nod to the nameplate). He started off by giving JP a general fitness examination. My canine companion was soon declared entirely healthy, after which I was taken through the basics of dog care.

"Now, I see he's already been fitted with a Sgaltor Hygiene Collar," Mr. Mook said approvingly. "I always recommend those. A good purchase, very discreet."

"Discreet?"

"Yes, for when dogs need to go to the toilet. Saves all sorts of mess, you know. The magic detects when the dog needs to relieve himself and puts up a wraparound screen to temporarily hide them, with appropriate charms to block any noise or smells, plus a temporary floor covering naturally. After your dog has done his business then there are spells used to clean everything away and the screen disappears. And of course, magic is also used to hide the whole process from any witches or wizards present. Unless you focus very hard, you don't even see the screen or realise what's going on at all."

I blinked with surprise. "You mean that this dog might already have 'done his business' and I didn't notice?"

"Oh absolutely, especially if you've fed him."

"Hmm, I see. Well, that is discreet."

"Yes, and it makes visiting people a lot easier if they know that your dog won't mess up their carpet! If you don't mind, I'll also fit him with one of our location tags. This only works while you're on the farm itself. Basically it lets us keep track of any dog's whereabouts, and we can also use it to transmit a summoning spell when you arrive to collect him."

"That sounds useful."

"Yes, most people think so. Now, let's talk about how you get to know JP first, shall we?"

I spent the next couple of hours as the student instead of the teacher for once, while Meredith Mook took me carefully through the basics of dog interaction. He answered my questions patiently and didn't seem to mind what I asked, or how clueless about dogs I obviously was. We were then invited to stay for lunch; the farm had a restaurant for the use of clients. Apparently, many employed witches or wizards missed their pet so much during the day that they spent their lunch hour at the farm with them. Well, I suppose it takes all sorts to make a world.

I stayed on at the farm during the afternoon, while Mr. Mook's daughter Lucinda spent a couple of hours starting to train JP to follow simple commands and myself to issue them. Dogs, it seemed, were not in any way magical themselves. It was therefore necessary to follow methods which were quite close to the muggle ones in terms of their learning, though various magical devices were used as training aids.

"For new owners like yourself, we recommend concentrating on basic commands first, and then you can add to those later on," she said cheerfully. "So, the most important first commands for your dog to learn include: sit, stay, come here, lie down, heel, wait, bed, no, leave it and drop it." She saw my look of alarm and laughed. "Don't worry, it will all fall into place soon enough. Now, shall we begin?"

That was the beginning of a training programme which took up much of my time in the gap between terms. The Mooks invited me to bring JP over for daily training sessions, and to leave him there after the lessons ended, at first for short intervals and then gradually longer, so that he could get used to my temporary absences and understand that I'd return each time for him. During the next few weeks, I learned a number of things about JP – his main likes and dislikes for example.

Likes: getting attention, playing, eating, running around, chewing my slippers, smelling things, smelling people, sleeping in highly unusual positions.

Dislikes: the Hogwarts lake, Fang, sudden loud noises, baths, being left alone, being outside in the dark at night.

As to character, I found that he was lively and full of energy, but that he also had a fondness for naps which a peace-loving Slytherin could exploit. He was in essence a furry bundle of sociability, completely accepting of everything and everybody. He didn't care who it was, he would lick them and jump up and wag his tail at them at the slightest opportunity. Each new person represented the next great friend in his life, and it soon transpired that there were few occupants of the castle who could resist him. I could hardly imagine how thrilled he'd be when another several hundred students arrived at the start of term.

Another thing I soon learned about my dog was that he wasn't overly clever. He didn't pick up new skills easily, what he did learn was often quickly forgotten and he was also distracted by the slightest thing. (Yes master, I'm staying, I'm staying like you told me to… wait, is that a squirrel? Must go and check!) His concentration was easily lost, but I found that if I was firm with him then he paid attention almost a third of the time. Now, you may be thinking that some of these deficiencies were my own fault, since I'd never trained a dog before. However, the staff at Mook's (though always complementary of JP's friendly nature and general playfulness) did admit that they'd met more intelligent hounds in their time. Mook Farm had around twenty-five employees, including eight members of the Mook family, spanning three generations. They were all exceedingly supportive and taught me a great deal about canine care and management. I started to feel as if the situation could perhaps, just possibly, be managed.

On the 29th of December, I went back to the Burrow to pick up Harry and return him to Privet Drive. I took JP with me; it was an excellent chance to show the Weasleys that while I might have been taken aback by his arrival, that time had well and truly passed and I was now in control of things. Mrs. Weasley and all of her children were at home, and I rather think the twins looked disappointed when I talked to Harry in a casual way about how well JP's training had progressed in just a few days and how easily we were building up a routine together. Good.

Before returning Harry to his home, at his request I took him to see Mook Farm. ("I want to visit it so I can imagine where JP goes during the daytime when I'm thinking about him.") Harry enjoyed himself so much playing with JP and the other dogs in attendance that I virtually had to tear him away. I promised to bring JP over during a future visit to Little Whinging so that Harry could see him again.

As I sat reading in my living room on the night before the start of term, I glanced over at my sleeping dog and reflected on the changes which he had brought into my life. I am not, and never will be, a natural dog person – but all the same, I wasn't doing a bad job of looking after JP. And if over time I showed him fondness and praised him and fussed over him occasionally, well… I always made sure that nobody saw me doing it.

Oh, and before I finish this chapter, did you notice the little dog-related puns in the title? If you did, and especially if you drew appropriate conclusions as to their meaning, then I congratulate you on your astuteness. If you didn't spot my little play on words, go back and look! I really do work hard at these things, you know; I don't want them to be overlooked.