"I saw her carrying that package," Penny said, a horrible sinking sensation taking hold in the pit of her stomach when Harry told her about how Katie Bell had been cursed by some necklace on her way back from Hogsmeade. "I knew she looked a little off when she didn't respond to me."

"I reckon Malfoy used the imperius curse. If he's a Death Eater now he wouldn't have any problems with it." Harry mused, evidently keen to have someone to discuss his theory with.

"Harry," Hermione said, a note of exasperation in her voice. "Professor McGonagall already told you Malfoy wasn't even at Hogsmeade, he was doing detention with her. He couldn't have done anything to Katie—"

"What? But I saw Malfoy at the The Three Broomsticks," said Penny, suddenly perturbed.

"I knew it!" said Harry.

"Are you certain, Penny," frowned Hermione.

"Well, I guess I'm not certain because I only saw the back of his head, but that was because Blaise stopped me. But he definitely said Malfoy had told him specifically to keep me away from whatever he was doing."

"When was this?" exclaimed Harry.

"Just before I saw Katie come back from the bathrooms."

"See!" Harry said, rounding on Hermione. "I told you it had to be Malfoy. He clearly brought the necklace from Borgin and Burkes."

"But it can't have been him, Harry. Professor McGonagall said he was in detention. He can't have been in two places at once. Whoever Penny saw can't have been him."

"And Blaise?" argued Harry.

"It's not like he makes it a secret that he hates Penny. He could have just been lying to make her go away."

It wasn't implausible, but Penny found herself unconvinced. And yet, she could not explain how Malfoy could be in two places at once.

"Hang on. But you can be in two places at once—"

"No you can't—"

"Yes you can, you were all of third year!" Harry said, a kind of 'aha' I got you this time in his voice.

"Did you forget we destroyed the bag of time turners when we were in the Ministry last June?" Hermione sighed. "It was all over the Daily Prophet."

This point finally managed to stop Harry in his tracks and the three of them fell silent, Hermione scratching away on her parchment, Harry gazing at the fire, and Penny fidgeting nervously. Did it make her a bad friend that she found herself wondering if Malfoy had been involved? Katie Bell had been sent to Saint Mungo's she'd been hurt so badly, and while Draco was the son of a Death Eater that did not make him his father. He could make his own choices, and Penny felt confident in the fact she sensed that Draco wanted something different. But maybe there was no choice for Draco, in which case he needed her more than ever.

"What are you doing with that?" Hermione snapped, startling Penny back to the present.

"Showing Penny, like you asked," Harry snapped back.

Looking mildly placated, Hermione bit her tongue and looked back down at her paper, glancing up at Penny as though waiting to be vindicated. Harry passed Penny his copy of Advanced Potion Making, Penny opening it from the back and finding The Half-Blood Prince written in neat, but cramped writing in the corner.

"A prince?" she smirked. "That's quite the title to give yourself."

Flipping to a random page, Penny found every margin in the book filled with the same cramped writing. On the entire instruction page the Prince had written in tips, crossed out instructions, and in some places even scribbled in what looked to be spells he'd created. Transfixed by the potion advice, Penny read through the Wolfsbane potion before realizing both Harry and Hermione were watching her expectantly.

"Well!" Harry and Hermione said.

"Well what?"

"It's clearly written by someone Harry should not be trusting and he should give it back, right? I mean, he's completely re-written instructions—"

"Oh come off it, Hermione! You just don't like the Prince because he's better at Potions than you."

"It's fascinating," Penny said, looking back at the book. "His tips, I mean. I can't vouch for them, having never brewed this potion, but they make sense, don't they?"

It was at this point Harry gestured to Penny as though to say "Thank you."

"But," Penny pressed, not wanting to listen to Hermione tell them both off. "I'd never try using a spell if I didn't know what it did. That's just common sense."

Hermione gave a little indignant sniffle and gathered up her books. The conversation apparently was not going the way she'd hoped it would.

Turning back the book, Penny flipped a few more pages, frowning.

"Does his penmanship seem familiar to you?" she asked Harry.

"No," Harry said, watching Hermione march away back to the girl's dormitories. "Why?"

"I can't place it, but it feels awfully familiar to me. Do you have any idea who the Half-Blood Prince is?"

"If I did I'd send him a thank you letter for teaching me more about potions in one month than Snape has in five years," Harry grimaced, making Penny chuckle.

"Do you mind if I read it for a while, I'd really love to see what else he says about some of the other potions we'll be brewing this year."

Harry nodded, looking pleased with her interest in his contraband-book, leaving Penny to it.

It was several hours before Penny returned to the land of the living and handed it back, figuring she should probably head to bed since she had classes the next morning and was intent on finally cornering Malfoy, who had been taking his breakfast early.


Penny choked on her pumpkin juice as she read the words Peregrine had written in the latest issue of the Hogwarts Howler, all color draining from her face. She hadn't remembered the writing of this piece going quite like this when she'd escaped Snape and ran straight to Ginny. Somehow she'd thought it'd been a little less damning and graphic.

If Snape caught wind, or worse, sight of this, she was as good as dead. It was with this thought that Penny scanned the Great Hall and made her way toward the Slytherin table, seating herself beside Draco.

He did a double-take when he realized she was not one of his crony friends, Crabbe or Goyle.

"Yes?" he drawled, trying to sound natural, but Penny saw the way he immediately became guarded.

"Thought it'd be nice to sit with you seeing as it's been forever since we've had a proper chat."

"What could you have possibly fucked up since Friday," he said, a little too wisely.

"You haven't read it," Penny said in disbelief.

"Read what—" but before he could finish, Penny slammed the latest issue of the Hogwarts Howler before him.

"I didn't realize you had a death wish," Draco said several minutes later with a shake of his head. "Is it true?"

"It is," Penny moaned, face falling into her hands. "I heard the entire thing word-for-word and I didn't even write the best parts in there."

"Well, if you wanted him to tie you up, this was one way to achieve that," he smirked.

"Tie me up and kill me!"

"But for one glorious moment you'll wonder which."

"I can't even scold you for saying that because I can't convincingly deny the fact that sounds appealing," Penny said, peaking over the top of her arm.

"Well, well, finally partook in a little introspection, did we?"

"How can you say that like it's a good thing! He's. . .Snape! My professor and, and…"

"Fiancé?" Draco offered, making Penny scowl.

"Shh!"

"As if there is a person at this table who doesn't already know."

"Fine. But this is serious because I kind of messed up. . ."

"You did not," Draco breathed after Penny explained to him how she'd confessed to Snape what the amortentia reminded her of. "How are you this inept," he went on, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You'll just have fuck him and get it out of your system, there is nothing else to be done."

"What! He'd never—I'd never—" Penny spluttered.

"Tell anyone after you do it? Don't pretend to be such a goody-two-shoes, Potter. I can guarantee fucking a professor is nothing new to these walls," Draco said, an air of boredom in his voice.

"I came here for help, not terrible advice!" fumed Penny. "Whether it sounds appealing or not, I refuse! So help me figure out how to get over this!"

"You can't honestly be asking me how to stop fantasizing about shagging your professor. You surely have enough of a brain to—" but Penny's red cheeks told him she did not have the slightest clue, making him sigh impatiently. "I would have thought it obvious, get your marbles off with someone else."

"How is that going to help?" Penny asked in honest confusion.

"For Merlin's sake, this is basic biology, woman. Obviously, if you have enough sex you won't have any time to be horny," he said, flicking her forehead painfully.

Penny rubbed her head and considered him for a moment. Maybe there was something to this argument, he was after all wiser and more experienced than she. But she didn't really like the sound of the idea, however continuing as she had seemed even worse. Perhaps she needed a second opinion, a female one.

"Are you positive?"

"Yes, I am positive your out of control hormones will appreciate a little whoring," he said, gathering up his things because the bell rang. "Now, go find your first victim."

"Wait!" Penny said, scrambling after him as he started walking to his class. "That's not everything," she said, catching him by the arm.

He turned reluctantly, Penny's green eyes holding his grey ones.

"I hardly think you need helping making your selection," he said, and Penny could tell he was trying to evade her but that only spurred her more purposefully forward.

"Are you okay? Like really okay?" she said quietly.

"And if I wasn't, what would you be able to do about it, Penny? Better you not worry your pretty, little head about things that don't concern you."

"I'd be there for you in whatever way you need! And I am concerned about it. You're my friend, Draco. If something's going on—"

"Then you want to meddle in it just like that prat brother of yours? Stop kidding yourself, Penny. You can't help me, not anymore. Everything has changed and there is nothing any of us can do about it. So your energy is better spent getting used to it," he said, voice harsh as he shrugged out of her hold and left Penny standing there speechless.

Surely Draco hadn't meant it. She had to believe it, believe in him. He was trying hard to push her away, but she'd seen the way he looked away, unable to look her in the face as he uttered such things. But Penny would not give up, she could not leave Draco to suffer through whatever was going on alone. No matter how long it took and how mean he decided to be, he would know Penny wasn't going anywhere. He was her best friend and Penny would not let Voldemort snatch him from her that easily.


"You can't say no!"

"Funny, I just did," Penny said to Harry as she tried to escape him in the corridor. Admittedly, it was an impossible task considering their connection, but if he had any decency he would take the hint.

"You love playing chaser."

"Yeah, but I don't love your keeper and by the sounds of it he's taken it upon himself to drag the whole team down with his bad mood," Penny said pointedly.

"He's been going through some things, are you of all people going to hold that against him?" Harry argued, shamelessly.

"Considering I am also going through some things, a loss of a best friend—Sirius, you might have known him; I am going to stay as far away from—"

"That's not fair."
"What's not fair?" Penny said, rounding on Harry. "Not playing on your team because you want to win?"

"Bringing him up like that. I miss him too," Harry said, green eyes dimmer, betraying the way he was battling against the emotions in his chest, and dampening Penny's bad mood.

"I'm sorry," Penny said, all the tension in her body leaving her like air did a deflating balloon. "The closer we get to Christmas, the angrier I feel about it. We finally had a place to go on the holidays. As awful as that house was, I wanted to be there, I wanted to see him. But he won't and—" Penny stopped abruptly, the stinging in her eyes not allowing her togo on.

Harry's warm hand took Penny's, pulling her into his lanky embrace. Words were unable to express the kind of sadness they shared in, Harry opening his mind to her and pulling her in. There, in that place where she felt as at home as she did in her own, Penny let her grief mingle with his own, making the burden lighter somehow. The sadness Penny felt was one many people tried to express understanding, as though losing Sirius was the same as any other loss. But his absence was felt so differently than Cedric's and produced feelings unlike the sorrow she'd felt losing Cedric. She loved Cedric, yes. But Sirius was Penny's family, the only family other than Harry she'd ever known. His took with it parts of herself she had not even been given a chance to explore. With him he took the Penny she might have been, leaving behind the orphan she loathed being.

Loud giggling and hushed whispers announced they had an audience so they pulled away. Harry scowled at the second years pointing at them, sending them scurrying away.

"Listen, Harry. I love you, but I can't be your chaser. I just don't have it in me to spend the year listening to everyone muttering about me getting on because you're the captain, and anyway, Professor McGonagall practically begged me to commentate, so just ask Dean. With him and Ginny I know the team has good odds of winning the cup."

Looking highly dissatisfied with this result, Harry made to argue, but a cold voice interrupted them.

"Potter," it said, making them turn.

"Not you, the other one," Snape sneered, eyes narrowed with intense dislike on Harry.

Mouth open and ready to put his foot in his mouth, Penny stomped on Harry's actual foot making whatever he was about to say become an "Owe!"

"See you at dinner," she said with a forced smile.

Casting Snape a last glowering look, Harry stalked away.

"What can I do for you, Professor?" Penny said in her most polite voice while carefully avoiding his gaze.

"Come," was the only response she received before he turned and whisked his way to that dreary classroom of his. She should have made a point of taking the long route to avoid running into him like this.

Stepping to the side, Snape held the door, black eyes as fixed on her face as the evident satisfaction was on his lips. It was a combination that made Penny very much want not to enter and try her luck running away again. But mastering her impulses because she also did not desire visiting the headmaster, she entered, keeping her face as expressionless as possible.

"Sit," he commanded, snapping the door shut behind him.

Scooping her bag into her lap and holding it before her as though it would save her from what came next, Penny sat, doing her best to act casual.

Taking his own seat, Snape laced his long fingers before him and watched Penny in silence, making her even more uneasy than she already was. She squirmed beneath his gaze, Snape reveling in her growing trepidation as she awaited what she knew was to be some punishment, but for what, she did not yet know.

"Tell me why you are here, Potter."

"S-sir?" Penny said, knowing this was a trap, an attempt to get her to admit to her wrong doing before providing any proof of her doing so. It was a tactic she was far too familiar with to be taken in by. Unfortunately for Penny, it did not seem Snape was in a playing mood and was intent on going for the throat.

"Did I stutter?"

"How am I supposed to know why you brought me here? I haven't been in class and can't read minds," Penny said, her feigned politeness quickly falling away.

"And why is that?"

"Why is what?"

"Why have you not been in my class," he said, his tone unnaturally even.

"I wasn't feeling well," Penny said. "I was in the Hospital Wing."

"So I heard."

"Then why did you ask—"

"You did not come to my class Monday, Wednesday or today, but curiously, you made it to all your classes Tuesday and Thursday, and seem to be miraculously cured now."

"If you are curious about the nature of illness, professor, then I suggest you speak to Madam Pomfrey. Nevertheless, is it now against school rules to go to the Hospital Wing?"

"Do you want to know what I think, Potter?"

"Not particularly—"

"I think you faked being sick on purpose."

"An accusation from you? How expected, and a bit hard to prove. Madam Promfrey had no qualms treating me, why should you?"

"So you are maintaining it wasn't a poor attempt to avoid me?" Snape went on, his voice still level, unnerving Penny.

She glanced up, finding him looking much too pleased, his finger tracing his mouth as he watched her.

"I have no reason to," she lied.

"No?" he said softly, eyebrows arched ever-so-slightly. "Not even this?"

Reaching into his drawer he pulled out the piece of red parchment and slid it slowly across the desk. The little color she had left drained from her face when Penny saw the familiar Hogwarts Howler logo stamped at the top of the page.

Who had been stupid enough to produce this particular copy in Snape's presence? She would strangle whoever the unfortunate soul was if she managed to survive this, that she promised herself. But as it stood, the more important task was surviving while not betraying her part in its creation and distribution.

Stomach sinking, Penny tried to take a small, steadying breath, something she intended to help her but only served to make her appear more guilty.

"What's that?" she asked, trying to look confused, again carefully avoiding his black eyes. If he wanted the truth on the matter, he would need to work for it. Penny would not walk herself to the gallows without a knife pressed to her neck.

"Why don't you read it and find out," he suggested, a cruel grin spreading across his thin lips.

Perplexed about what his angle was, she took it from him with an involuntary twinge of relief. Pretending to read it gave her the chance to collect her thoughts and come up with a plan. However, she vastly underestimated his intent on ensuring her suffering through this entire process.

"Out loud," he said in a velvety voice when her eyes moved but her mouth did not.

Penny's eyes froze upon the page. She'd heard his words, but she could not be certain he was being serious without looking at him, and she was much too cowardly to attempt that at this moment. So she merely sat there, neither speaking nor reading.

"You know how to read, do you not, Potter?" Snape went on, getting to his feet and making his way around the desk. He stopped just beside her, bending over her to better see the words on the paper. His long thin hand moved, and for a second Penny wondered he might strangle her with it, but rather, he reached over her hand, arm draped across hers so he could track the sentences with his finger like one did when learning to read. His other hand took a hold of her shoulder as he said, "Shall I start it for you?"

He was so near Penny, she was surprised his every word did not spray the side of her face with his spit. Infuriatingly, heat rose almost instantly to her cheeks when the hot breath brushed past her, bringing with the excitement, goosebumps across her body.

"In an uncustomary turn of events, the Hogwarts Howler has the great pleasure of exposing not just the secrets of—" he started voice, soft, "Hogwarts students who so foolishly believed no one would ever find out. . ." He allowed silence to punctuate the sentence before continuing, "but also one of its staff."

When Penny did not respond, he tutted in her ear, sending another shiver up her spine. He was much too close according to the blood raging through her veins and the heart hammering in her chest. She was quickly losing control of her senses, desire making her forget herself. The humiliation was possibly worse than the actual desire, because it made Penny feel helpless, a toy in the clutches of Snape.

"Come now, we don't have all day."

"Today we bestow upon our dedicated readership a most rare glimpse into the life and lies of none other than Severus Snape—" Penny paused, closing her eyes and wishing very much that she could melt into the floor.

"Go on," he said, the hand on her shoulder giving her an encouraging squeeze.

"—previous Potions Master; current (but hopefully not for long) Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts; most hated faculty member to ever step foot on these grounds; and. . ." again, Penny found herself unable to go on, but she knew delaying the inevitable would only prolong her suffering, so, voice lacking all emotion, she read, "in a surprising turn of events. . .nymphomaniac."

Snape did not wait for Penny, he continued on from where she'd left off, his face torturously close to her own and making her forget exactly how much trouble she was in.

"Yes, you heard it here first, folks, Severus Snape has sex—" Snape's lips heavy with the word, Penny uncertain whether she imagined him putting a deliberate emphasis on the word or not. "—but unsurprising to everyone, he has to pay for it. According to a first-hand account from the hookers of Hogsmeade, Professor Snape is a frequent partaker of their services."

It was Penny's turn again and she knew it. Praying her voice would do what she wished of it, Penny did as he beckoned, his finger trailing back to the start of a new sentence, tickling the arm trapped beneath his. She really wanted to push it away so she could read the sentence quickly, but she'd given up that option and handed Snape the upper hand that allowed him to prolong her embarrassment.

"The most shocking part of this conversation, however, was the d-divulsion, on the promise of anonymity—" Penny's voice constricted in her throat. Merlin, what had possessed her to write this, and better yet, what possessed him to torment her this way with it. "—that S-Severus Snape is a very skilled. . .lover. . ." her voice was barely audible by this point, but it was enough for Snape.

"And?"

"And, well-endowed," she muttered.

It was a fate worse than death, being forced to utter these words while her bloody hormones mutinied against her and tried to convince her a much better use of her time would be finding out exactly how true that statement was. To make matters worse, he shifted beside her, his long black hair tickling Penny's neck and sending a wave of bergamot crashing across the minuscule divide between them. The stupor it produced was instantaneous and hypnotic, making it harder for her to focus.

"The next sentence too," he said softly, tapping the next line.

Of course he would not relent or take any mercy on her, he was out for blood, out to prove a point to her, and perhaps satisfy his ego in the process. How better to accomplish that than to use the words she'd written to embarrass him to chasten her. It was the twisted kind of logic only he would come up with, but nevertheless effective.

"In a wonderfully graphic and exuberant conversation, our contact confessed that. . ." Penny closed again her eyes as though doing so would help her escape; enable her to wish herself away from here; allow to avoid speaking what came next.

His hand moved in response, grazing her hand as it passed and finding her chin. Penny resisted at first, but Snape succeeded, with a little force, in turning her to face him.

"No need to play coy, Potter. You are, after all, the author. You should be familiar enough to recite it."

Her eyes fluttered open, finding dark wells of cruelty looking back at her. They made Penny feel transparent, like nothing within her could hide from his gaze. Not her lies, her motivations, not even the twinge of ecstasy the hand on her chin brought. It left Penny floundering in her own turmoil, unable to get a grip or even defend herself. It did not help that the electricity between them was buzzing loudly, too loudly. She could not focus, not utter those words without betraying herself to his ever-seeing eyes. But her only escape was to be found in saying them; he'd planned it this way.

"Severus Snape seems to have a. . .forced o-orgasm fetish." Even as her mortification colored these words, her brain was guilty of fantasizing about how such a thing was terribly appealing.

Black eyes lingering just long enough to sear the mortification of the treacherous thought into her soul, they flicked down to the page, his hand releasing her as he continued, "For all our readers, who like us were not entirely sure what that is, it refers to orgasms that are given to a willing participant, usually as part of a BDSM scene." He said the words with such ease that Penny found herself almost gaping open mouthed at him, like in his own way, he was unabashedly admitting to the truth of it. If he did not care then what was the point of doing this to her?

Despite wanting to argue this point, Snape bid her continue and turning back she could not help but despise how he managed to assign the lines perfectly to maximize her own regret for such careless writing, though she momentarily thought it a true talent.

His finger guiding her again,"Yes, you heard that right—Severus Snape is exactly the kind of control freak all of us want. . ." she said stiffly glancing to her left at the window and cursing the fact Snape had the wherewithal to trap her before he began this torture session, preventing Penny from throwing herself out of it.

Voice unsteady from the effort to keep her mind from straying into the dangerous territory of acknowledging how much his nearness affected her, she said, ". . .to tie us to a bed," —his finger paused, letting the words convict and condemn her—"and, well, we'll leave the rest to your imaginations."

Writing those words came so easily. They read as a jest, hiding a secret that was splayed out before her now because she'd so foolishly told Snape about the amortentia. He let those words hang in the air to impress upon Penny the fact he knew they were not in jest. She'd never regretted anything more than she did now, reeling in shame of, despite denying it, knowing he knew the truth.

"That will suffice," Snape said, filling Penny with a kind of nervous relief. "Now, Potter, tell me what you think would be an appropriate punishment for this little exposé yours?"

"It's not mine," Penny said instinctively, barely stopping herself from saying bondage. Thankfully the training of Malfoy was the loudest voice in her head—deny, deny, deny until you believe it's true. If she was going to adhere to that motto at any time in her life, it sure as hell would be now.

"Isn't it?" he said, telling her the lie was not appreciated. It clearly wouldn't have mattered even if she hadn't written it, he'd already decided it was her and was not here to confirm his accusation, but to punish her for it, knowing her part in uncovering his secrets.

"No one knows who writes the Hogwarts Howler, sir."

"Considering the glaring error you made in disguising your identity, even a half-wit with minimal effort could deduce its origin."

Penny remained stubbornly silent, determined not to respond. Again, he was trying to coax her into outing herself. But her stubborn vindictiveness had reared its ugly head because of his tactics and she was no longer inclined to be the least bit reasonable. He would need to present his evidence if he wanted the satisfaction of knowing he'd caught her.

"You have not realized your own error, have you?" he drawled, lip curling at the corners.

Again, Penny did not respond, glancing uneasily at him as though if she peeked she might discern his secrets but not he hers. His accusation irked her prideful nature. Surely he was just trying to use that against her because they'd been meticulous in their efforts to conceal the identity of Peregrine.

"It should not surprise me that for all the precautions you took to limit its distribution and conceal the publication from those you would wish not to see it, that you took no pains to disguise your own hand," he said, voice dripping with venomous glee as his long fingers tapped the pretty penmanship. "You are your fathers, child after all, and I assume you get some sort of arrogant gratification from the risk. Because, surely, you would not have been stupid enough to forget that after six years of grading your pretentious essays I could recognize your penmanship in an instant. You, who insists on writing all your letters three sizes larger than any other person on this planet."

The words hit Penny like a brick wall, and looking down at the leaflet before her, she realized how great her own stupidity was. How could she have made such a glaring error? Was history not rife with examples of how incriminating penmanship could be? Penny basically handed Snape her written confession, sealing her own fate with the curl on her n.

"Your opinion isn't proof," Penny said, still too stubborn to give up now.

Reaching across the desk, Snape pulled a blank piece of parchment and a quill to himself. Picking it up, he quickly jotted down the sentence, If I intend to tell lie, I should learn to do it well, and passed it to her. "A simple test, then."

Penny suppressed a snort of laughter reading his chosen sentence. Was this really his lesson? Why had she thought it would be something else, like the importance of not lying? This was coming from the man who lied for a living, surely she should have realized he was incapable of wholly criticizing lying when he did it so often. Though, she had the feeling he would not like it much if she became as versed in the skills of lying as he, but she did not dwell too long on that double standard, because her eyes did a double-take on the sentence. The neat, cramped handwriting was one she was very familiar with having spent years reading it on the board and scribbled in the margins of her essays. She knew his hand as well as hers and yet, she kicked herself for not recognizing it earlier. Reading the sentence several times over again, it dawned her it was one and the same as the notes scrawled through the entirety of Harry's potions textbook.

In an 'aha, I got you' moment Penny exclaimed,"You're him, you're the Half-Blood Prince!" half victorious, half awed.

When he didn't respond, Penny turned her blazing green eyes on him, finding that gloating smirk gone and his eyes wide as though uncertain of what he'd heard her say.

"You don't deny it?" she pressed, enjoying the way he floundered before her, evidently furious.

"Where did you hear that name," he demanded, lip curling into that distinctive sneer of his.

"Of course it's you," Penny sighed in frustration, ignoring his question. The look on his face had been all the confirmation she needed, and now she was annoyed by it. "Of course you were a child-prodigy, I mean look at you now," Penny complained, shooting him an annoyed glance. "It's not fair, no-one should be allowed to be as perfect as you," Penny fumed out loud, not noticing the way in which his sallow features turned a brilliant shade of red. "I thought the Prince would be handsome, kind, amazing, not surly, grump—you. I wanted to love him with my whole being and now I can't!" she said like a schoolgirl scorned by love.

"For the last time, Potter, where did you hear that name!"

"Huh?" Turning back to him she remembered there was actually another person involved in this discussion. "I'll tell you if you tell me how you picked it," she smirked. "Fancy yourself a prince do you? Gotta say though, I think the more surprising revelation is you admitting to be a half-blood. Maybe Death Eaters aren't born, they're made," she said, lifting her eyebrows for an added flare of drama she knew would annoy him.

"We are not discussing me, Potter! This is clearly a poor attempt by you to weasel your way out of the punishment—"

"Yeah yeah, detention until I graduate," Penny said, waving the rest of his sentence away with her hand. "But I need to know, how much time did you spend studying, and be honest. Were you a friendless loser or—"

At that moment the bell rang, the door to the classroom opening and some second-year Hufflepuffs filing in, each of them glancing curiously in their direction and saving Penny from certain death. Snape's hands had reached for her, his body shaking in fury. But as soon as the door opened, he'd frozen.

Smoothing the features on his face in the amount of time it took him to straighten his spine and take a step away from her, Snape said, "We will continue the discussion of your punishment in my office later," he said in a forced calm, so quietly only she could hear him.

"Sounds kinky. I look forward to it, Prince," Penny blurted out as she got to her feet, not totally aware of what her mouth was doing because she was too preoccupied with thinking about what she had read in the Prince's book earlier and imagining a 16-year old Snape being that brilliant. She wondered if he'd been less angry then, maybe a bit more exciting? She probably would have worshiped him, more so than she already did. She might have even proposed, a thought that made her wonder if he would have turned her into a Death Eater in another life; only to realize he'd done so in this life with his own proposal. How had life become as ridiculous as her imagination?

Lucky for Penny, witnesses saved her from his wrath, however, his fingernails dug painfully into her shoulder when he pushed her toward the door with a scowl—promising retribution.

It was not until later that evening when she returned that Penny came to truly regret what she had done. Snape was not the type of person to ignore such a slight. And in the time apart, he'd had time to decide that not only was Penny to serve detention every Saturday evening for the next eternity, he'd somehow convinced Dumbledore to allow him to force Penny to come publicly clean at the next evening's dinner. A prospect that got worse the longer she thought about it. He was truly ruthless, Penny certain he knew exactly how much she suffered all Saturday thinking of it. Still, she refused to speak about it with anyone, not even Harry. But not because she didn't want to, more-so because explaining it would get into the dangerous territory of describing what had occurred in his office and Penny could not revisit those memories without putting herself in danger of outing her attraction to the awful man. Harry and Ginny would have to just be as surprised as everyone else.

Being the weekend, Penny had (wrongly) hoped the Great Hall would be emptier than usual with the Quidditch match being scheduled for early the following day. But Hogwarts being Hogwarts and addicted to gossip, word had spread like wildfire, so when Penny walked through those double-doors she found what looked to be the entire school inside, speculating loudly about what they were about to witness.

Contemplating how bad it would go if she were to turn around and go into hiding, Penny felt his pincer-like grasp take a hold of her upper-arm and looked up to meet the black eyes.

"Can't we talk about this. This is social suicide, haven't I nearly died enough times?" Penny pleaded.

"Don't pretend like this isn't exactly what you wanted, Potter."

"What part of this could I possibly want!"

"Attention, Potter. I am all too familiar with your endless question for attention—'

"Your attention not theirs!" Penny argued. "I'm just a poor young girl who's been seduced by you and your darkness!"

Penny didn't know what possessed her to make this argument, but it was the exact wrong one to make to the insufferable man. Not that he would ever be caught dead rescinding a punishment, mercy was for the weak.

"Then perhaps this will teach you the value of playing hard to get," he said silkily, spurring her forward and leading her across the hall to the high table where the teachers sat overlooking the four house tables. She dared not look at her head of house, Professor McGonagall. The look of deep disapproval on top of whatever she was about to endure facing the wrath of her peers was the cherry on top Penny did not think she could stomach.

When they stopped, Penny did her best not to focus on any particular face as a wave of silence rippled through the room, people now looking toward Penny and nudging their neighbors. The corners of Snape's lips upturned in a cruel smile as he watched her, Penny certain her complexion had to resemble the Slytherin logo by now, considering how nauseous she felt.

She'd only ever had the courage to publish the Hogwarts Howler because of the insulation anonymity offered her. She was not like Sirius, able to let things roll off her back, nor was she as cool as he. If something like this happened to him, Penny was sure it'd only make others like her more. But Penny was different, she always had been, and that gave her the distinct feeling that others did not want to like her. Would they be all too happy to have a reason to ostracize her? There would be more than a few of her peers who would be all too happy to ensure that happened once it was revealed what she'd done.

And while it'd hardly been a solo job, Penny refused to out Fred, George and Ginny, though Snape did his best to pry the names of her conspirators from her. At the end of the day, the idea was hers, and anyone else involved would remain anonymous, leaving her to endure whatever the consequences may be—alone.

That's how it always went for her, though. No matter how hard she tried to hold on, to do the right thing, she always managed to end up alone. She should be used to it by now, and yet, she still found herself hating the way it felt when Snape let go of her arm and made his way for the far wall. Was that all life amounted to—a series of people walking away from her?

Her mind cast into the tumultuous chaos of these thoughts made her hands shake and her vision blur. The silence had gone into that awkward length, and she would be expected to speak soon. For the first time in her life, she found herself at a loss, unable to make her mind think or mouth move. She'd never had stage fright before, so she did not know how one overcame it.

Devolving further into her own self doubt, Penny's eyes gravitated to the dark eyes of her friend. Adrian was looking back at her, concern streaked across his bright features. In them there was a calm Penny had become accustomed to in their lessons. Closing her eyes for a moment, Penny took a deep and let Adrian's voice play through her mind.

"Quiet your mind and imagine yourself standing at an edge, but instead of there being a hole you are afraid to plunge into to, see an endless expanse."

She saw it now, laid out before her: the unremitting potential of possibility. Looking down, Penny realized the ledge she'd been so afraid of was actually a part of this expanse, and at any point there was a new edge defining the perimeters of each new possibility. Standing here in the stillness, Penny came to understand it was not the precipice that she feared, but the fact that in the face of the unknown, she found herself compelled forward not by free will or choice, but the hand of something else.

With an urgent need to determine her own path, Penny did an about face and looked away from the expanse Adrian had shown her and she jumped headlong into the emptiness that lay behind her—all the possibilities that never came to be.

Expecting to open her eyes and find her peers looking back at her, Penny was plunged into darkness. The voice dying in her throat, she looked to her left and then to her right. While she was certain her eyes were open, the blanket of darkness was so thick she found herself second guessing her own mental faculties.

Slamming her eyes shut, Penny tried to tell her mind she was confused; remind it that she was standing in a hall of people, all of whom she should be able to hear. But when she opened them, she found neither blackness nor the Great Hall but a tunnel.

Heart stopping in her chest, Penny took an involuntary step backwards. Not that tunnel. Anything but that cursed place that had stolen so much from Penny. She'd all but forgotten about it, assuming it was some manifestation of her grief after losing Cedric. So why was she standing here now? Had she finally lost her mind?

The thought terrified her so she began looking around frantically for anything to anchor herself as her fear incited a tidal wave of memories and feelings that overwhelmed Penny.

"I don't want to be here. This isn't real!" Penny said out loud, her hands meeting concrete walls to her left and right when they began to frantically look for an exit. However, behind her seemed to expand onward just as before her, leaving her only two options. But she was hesitant to move from the spot.

"I don't like this anymore," Penny yelled, the panic stirring in her chest. Something was wrong with this place, she wasn't supposed to be here; every nerve in her body was on edge as though it were fighting for her life.

In an attempt to prevent herself from spiraling into a full blown panic attack, she told herself this was a manifestation of her anxiety. The prospect of admitting her wrong doings was naturally scary, but her mind need not go this far. It was hers, she should have control of it and at this moment, she wanted it to return her to herself.

So for the second time, she closed her eyes and steadied herself against the wall, but even before she opened her eyes again, she knew nothing changed. This had to be something else—someone else's doing then, that was the only logical answer.

Was this Snape's punishment? All part of his plan? It seemed cruel, even for him, all things considered. But he was the only other person who knew Penny had dreamed of this tunnel for months after Cedric had passed. Though at the time he told her those dreams were expressions of the guilt she felt for not having stopped Cedric that night. There was no way he would dredge up such awful memories for something as petty as this. After all, he was the one who helped her close her mind to those dreams.

These thoughts only heightened her panic because it forced her to wonder if the dreams had been something other than dreams, which meant she was actually a prisoner of this tunnel without the slightest idea how to get out.

But no, that didn't make sense. She was standing in Hogwarts! This she was sure. The protections around the castle were too strong for her to have been transported anywhere. In which case. . .

"Tom, you bloody prat, if you're trying to make a point, you've made it," Penny called, hand reaching for her chest because it was constricting uncomfortably. "Now tell me what you want," she wheezed.

Her words echoed down either end of the tunnel, but otherwise there were no other sounds to be heard. No one responded. But that did not stop the hair on Penny's arm from standing on end. She wasn't alone.

"This isn't funny!"

Again, they reverberated, but this time something stirred behind her. Her head turning instinctively toward the sound, she stopped because a flicker of light on the other end of the tunnel caught her attention. A sense of relief flooded through her. It was that same little orb she'd followed in her dreams that reminded her of Cedric. Convinced it was there to help her, Penny moved toward it, the light bobbing around in the air much in the manner of a butterfly.

Every step she took toward it sent it fluttering a little further away from her. In her dreams she'd always been too slow to catch it, doomed to watch it disappear around the corner in the same manner Cedric had—leaving her alone in the dark. But in those dreams it'd been much further from her than it was now, filling her with the hope that this time she'd catch it, and once she did everything would finally make sense.

The scurrying behind her became a low rumbling, the stone beneath Penny's feet shaking unsteadily, throwing her off balance. She collided with the wall painfully, but quickly straightened. She'd already failed twice, first Cedric and then Sirius; she would not do so again. This time she would make it, but another sharp pain in her chest sent her stumbling. The stinging remained as though a cut were screaming its protest against the confines of her rough shirt, but there was not enough light for Penny to investigate. She wanted to reach down and pull out whatever was causing the pain, but there was nothing to be grabbed.

Figuring it was the lingerings of her panic attack that was still trying to get the best of her, Penny turned back to the light which had gotten much further in such a small pause than she would have thought possible for something so small.

Another rumble, this time the stone beneath her feet shook more violently, making it difficult to stay upright. Desperate to keep moving forward, Penny half ran, half stumbled, the urgency in her to reach the light at a fever pitch.

"Cedric, wait!" Penny called when the light began to get dimmer due to distance. Her lungs screaming, arms scratching painfully against the walls she collided with every other step, Penny pushed herself—she was gaining on it. By the mercy of Merlin, the light stopped, as though it heard her and was waiting.

One foot in front of the other, Penny's arm stretched out before her to snatch the light as one might a snitch. And in the moment her hand closed around it, several things happened at once.

The light vanished, appearing a safe distance from her, hovering on the spot as though considering her. In the effort to catch it, Penny had thrown her whole body at it, and in that last step where she'd propelled herself forward with all her might; Penny collided with some sort of barrier she had not seen. But instead of hitting it and falling backward, the wall collapsed around her, its firmness becoming instantly more like a mold enveloping her in its leather stickiness. And when her body collided, the entire tunnel began to shake, the sound of stone crumbling around her meeting her ears.

While being stuck like a fly in a spider's web in a tunnel that was about to bury her alive was alarming in and of itself, the fact the disgusting stuff that caught her had encased Penny's face, smothering her like a plastic bag, sent her into an instant writhing panic. Her lips tried to suck in air, but only received a mouthful of some sort of mucous that made her choke.

Screaming inaudible, her limbs pushing, tugging and ripping against whatever it was that held her, Penny's eyes turned once more to the light she had followed here. It was some hundred feet from her, hanging motionless, slowly getting dimmer until it was no longer visible, and two large red eyes took its place.

A screech so loud Penny's ears were surely bleeding, followed, the rumbling she'd felt earlier intensifying and sending several rocks smashing into her limbs and head. With her vision narrowing, Penny spared little energy to wonder what it was she was looking out, her body and mind being too focused on imminent death via three different sources.

How did it come to this? Was she really to die in this place having not the faintest clue where she was or how she got here? It had to be a nightmare, one she would surely wake up from at any moment.

But she did not wake up, did not find herself back in the Great Hall where she was supposed to be. Instead, the wall beside her began to glow and dissolve. Bright light spewed into the tunnel, almost blinding Penny were she not transfixed on the figure stepping through the opening. Adrian looked around, his eyes falling immediately on whatever was stirring just ahead of them, lips tightening. Penny screamed and writhed, trying to get his attention and succeeded.

His concentration turned to her and he rushed over. Pulling something from his pocket, he started cutting Penny out of the trap, his hands focusing first on freeing her mouth.

Face free, Penny alternated between retching the mucus out and taking in great gulps of air. She was not making a lot of progress, but she had managed to stave off blacking out by the time Adrian cut the last of her free, sending her tumbling to the floor.

Without even bothering to wait for her to get to her feet, Adrian looped his hands beneath each armpit and started dragging Penny toward the door he'd entered by. It was painful, but Penny knew better than to resist. Once she was over the threshold, he returned to the wall, both hands touching the outermost reaches of his opening as he muttered words Penny did not recognize.

The stone beneath his hands expanded, filling in the hole one stone at a time. But the hole remained large enough for Penny to see the red eyes coming, only pausing to let out another horrible screech.

There was no doubt in Penny's mind that it was coming for them and that Adrian was most certainly in danger. She screamed for him to get away from the wall, but it was impossible for her to be heard over the noise of the creature. He remained where he was, intent on finishing what he was doing, despite the fact the creature lurched at him. And just when Penny was sure he would get caught in its path, Adrian took a step back, the creatures long taloned arm swiping through the air where Adrian had just been standing, only to fall with a sickening thump to the ground when the door closed, cutting the member cleanly from his body.

If Adrian had been afraid at any moment, he did not betray it when he turned to Penny, who scrambled to her feet and threw her arms around him, doing her best not to cough mucus in his face. He squeezed her back for all of a moment before quickly pulling away.

"You must wake up now, Penny," he said, wiping slime from her face.

"Wake up? Aren't we awake now?" she said in a hoarse voice.

"Sort of. This is the inbewteen, or what binds our world to the next."

"And that thing?"

Happy week! Hope this update finds you all well! Nothing too exciting to report here except there being way too many good television shows I've gotten sucked into. I recently finished The Rings of Power, and with no spoilers, have developed a toxic ship. lol IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW. FML i just like bad boys? :( Writing Snape really helped me live out my love of this lol

I named this chapter The Half-Blood Prince for some obvious reasons and some not so obvious. Hope you enjoy it and have a good rest of your week!


"Will find us if we do not go now."

"But—"

"Please, Penny," Adrian said, suddenly taking a strong hold of both her arms. "I will explain everything later."

Satisfied that she understood, he reached in his pocket again and pulled out what Penny now realized was a small blade. The handle was made out of wood and appeared to be adorned with golden wire in the shape of an angel with spread wings on one side, and closed wings on the other.

Slicing in what looked to be nothing more than thin air, another door appeared, but what was on the other side this time was much harder to distinguish. Eyebrows creased, Penny rather thought it looked like water swirling down a drain and could not imagine why Adrian had opened a door there.

"We must jump," he said, reaching for her hand.

"Into that?" she said skeptically.

"I promise to get you to the other-side," he replied, his eyes trailing past her.

A new sound had disturbed the silence of this room, one that was ominously familiar. Drums in the deep. They thundered in unison, quiet at first as though announcing the arrival of an army, inciting the violent recollection of the last time Penny had heard that sound. It was the day Sirius had become possessed, and whatever those drums were announcing, Penny felt sure she did not want to be here when they arrived. Penny especially not wanting to find out if Adrian would become possessed as Sirius had, and seizing Adrian's hand, she leapt through the door, her stomach dropping sickenly as she plunged to certain death.

"No!" she gasped, bolting upright, something letting out a loud yowl when she knocked it off her chest. With a light pop, the weight returned to her chest.

Blinking, Penny looked down, finding Fleamont, claws deep in her flesh, clinging to her chest. When their eyes met, the cat meowed loudly, releasing her and getting up on his hind legs so as to press his face against hers.

"Fleamont?" she said in confusion.

Seemingly content now that she was awake and purring loudly, Fleamont turned and jumped onto a large, motionless form beside her and hissed loudly.

The form, like Penny, bolted upright. Prepared this time, the cat jumped agilely from his shoulder, landing some feet away in a windowsill. The room around them was dark, the light of the moon streaming in through the window the only thing to help her identify who it was sitting beside her.

Snape's dark eyes found Penny, his hand immediately reaching for her, touching her forehead first only then to take her cheeks in both hands, as though he did not quite believe it was her.

"Sir?" Penny croaked, her throat protesting against its own use. Despite everything she'd just experienced, she found herself more worried about the man before her, looking back at her as though he'd seen a ghost. "Are you alright?"

He merely stared at her, eyes trailing over every feature of her face, his own contorting in agony as though the memory of something were causing him great agony.

"No—The love I have for you has rendered me incapable of ever recovering from watching, thrice now, you go beyond my reach, and I curse you for it-for being the bane and joy of my existence."